Metro 2033: Desperado
by Iwillnevertell12345
Summary: New York City wasn't spared the devastation of nuclear fire. The remnants of its population struggle to survive. Warring states locked in a cold war vie for supremacy, turning the East River into a veritable iron curtain. Follow the story of Daniel, a veteran "Surface Stalker" trying to eke out the miserable life of a metro dweller. Will he find solace in this harsh world?
1. Prologue

Prologue: Judgment Day

The streets of Manhattan were as busy as ever. Cars sputtered and honked as they slowly crawled through traffic. People hustled by, apathetically going about their daily lives. Daniel sat in a chair and gnawed on a pizza crust while staring at the unfamiliar faces zipping by.

"Well, look who it is," someone said merrily.

Daniel lazily cocked his head and turned toward the voice.

"Missed ya at work today, pal."

"I asked you to cover for me, didn't I?" Daniel questioned.

"Have a little faith in ol' Ross! The foreman would have your ass if I hadn't," the all too familiar passer-by said.

Daniel thought to himself that Ross was the kind of guy you'd see in a biker flick. He was an underachiever with an air of confidence about him. He was wearing blue jeans and his favorite leather jacket. The jacket accentuated his large physique and broad shoulders. His clean-shaven face and short-cropped hair gave him a very professional look.

Daniel was much younger than Ross. Ross was a tall, strong guy. He towered over Daniel with his enormous stature. Daniel often made jokes that whenever Ross stood up straight he would "blot out the sun." Daniel was still strong enough to get his work done, but Ross just made him feel weak. Fresh out of high school, Daniel went looking for a job as quickly as possible. Ross, and manual labor, found him.

Daniel shoved the pizza crust back into his mouth and said, "I've been busy."

Ross glanced over at the young girl at a vending machine across the room. She was small and short with long, blonde hair. She wore a pink sun dress and matching sandals. She was almost like a doll. She stared intently into the glass, trying to decide what to take. A snide grin crept across Ross' face.

"Busy playing hooky, right?"

Daniel ripped a bit of the crust from the rest and placed it on his plate.

"It's her birthday today."

Having finally decided on and bought a drink, the young girl skipped toward Daniel's table.

"You never change. If I didn't know better, I'd probably mistake you for a young father."

Daniel looked at the girl sleepily.

"We're close-knit."

The girl looked up at Ross with a beaming smile.

"Uncle Ross!" she exclaimed.

"How's it going, Birthday Girl?" Ross asked with a smile, "How old is little Kasey now?"

"I'm ten!"

Ross chuckled.

"We'll have you lifting sandbags in no time!"

"Are you a floor-man yet?"

"Hah! Still on with that, eh? Not yet, but I will be by the time you can work. Count on that!"

Ross let out another chuckle before turning to Daniel again.

"I'm heading out," he said, "so don't you dare miss work tomorrow!"

Daniel nodded. Ross strolled out of the pizzeria and disappeared into the crowd.

"We should get going too, Squirt," Daniel said and stood up from his seat.

As he started toward the door he noticed Kasey's face. She had puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms.

"If you're gonna pout, I can leave you here."

Kasey didn't budge. Daniel looked at the clerk.

"Hey, buddy. How many pizza pies could you make with this squirt?"

Kasey squealed and clung to Daniel's arm. He laughed and walked out toward the subway station entrance with her.

In an electronics store nearby, Daniel could see the image of the local news station on one of the display televisions. Daniel recalled hearing that nuclear strikes had been called for. He read the text plastered across the screen. From what he could make out, the government was boasting to the nation that America was safe, due to its sophisticated missile-defense systems.

Before descending into the subway, Daniel's cellphone began to beep. He had gotten a text message from his mother. It read _We love you. Stay safe._ He didn't think much of it and headed into the subway. Daniel and Kasey sat on a bench and waited for the train to arrive.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Daniel asked Kasey.

"I want a waffle cone."

"You'll get fat, though."

"I will not!"

"Hmm… If you say so. Don't say I didn't warn ya."

The train rolled into the station and came to a halt before the pair. When the doors opened, a group of fully-armed soldiers stepped out and onto the boarding platform, then walked toward the subway exit. Daniel thought this was puzzling, but pushed it out of his mind.

"Probably some weird flash mob or something," he said to himself.

He boarded the train with his sister. Kasey sat in one of the seats lining the walls of the train. Daniel stood and held on to the bar overhead. The metal doors slammed shut and with a slight jerk the train started rolling. Kasey gleefully glanced about the train while Daniel stood and watched. He felt content to see his beloved sister smile. The lights flickered. Kasey looked at Daniel, confused. The lights went out. Almost as suddenly, with a grinding hiss, the train's brakes locked. Daniel stumbled down the aisle and nearly fell over. The wheels slid along the iron tracks, creating sparks that dimly lit the cabin of the train. Daniel frantically struggled to find his sister. Kasey called out to her brother in a panic, but he couldn't find her.

"Kasey!" Daniel shouted, "Where are you?!"

The train jerked Daniel around, causing him to lose his footing and fall over, before coming to a stop and leaving the train car silent in pitch black darkness.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Lion's Den

Daniel found the darkness to be abnormally stuffy. He turned on the flashlight attached his helmet and looked around the derelict train car. Rusty bars lined the walls and roof of the car, while decrepit suitcases, old newspapers, and shattered glass cluttered the floor. He held on to a hand bar and looked down at one of the seats. With a sudden crack, the rusty bar snapped and hit Daniel on the head.

Daniel grunted, more in anger than in pain, "Fuck!"

His low voice carried and reverberated weakly through the subway tunnel. He was answered by the faint sound of a rock falling to the ground in the darkness of the tunnel. Daniel stepped out of the train car and onto a splintering wooden board of the train tracks. With a weak crack, it shattered under his weight. He crept though the tunnel quietly making sure the whispering howl of the wind steadily flowed though tunnel drowned out any noise he made.

Another flashlight suddenly beamed onto a wall ahead of him. Daniel quickly doused his light and dropped into a crouch. As he carefully moved closer to the source of the light, he heard what he thought sounded like a water faucet that someone had forgotten to turn off. He soon got close enough to see a man urinating over a guard-rail and muttering to himself.

"Sick of these damned caravan raids," the man swore belligerently, "Fuckin' Army keeps rippin' our assholes open and we keep getting left to bleed out."

He zipped his pants and stormed off down a maintenance corridor, still muttering to himself.

"Wish I was still in the Square. I could go for a pie."

Daniel watched the man as he turned the corner and disappeared.

Daniel quietly whispered to himself, "I thought pie was an Atlantis thing."

He shook off the thought and followed the man down the hallway. Daniel stuck to the shadows, being careful not to unexpectedly bump into someone turning a corner. The tight corridors worried Daniel. If anyone were to happen by, he'd be a sitting duck.

He finally reached the heart of the station. It was a double line station with tracks on either side of the boarding platform. It was musty and smelled of alcohol, mold, and urine. Its few light sources were dim and often flickered.

Daniel quietly whispered to himself, "What a dive…"

He skillfully snuck his way past the large, angry men with loaded firearms that sat thinly spread about the station. There weren't many, but he was still vastly outnumbered. He came upon a poorly-built shack. It was built on top of the train tracks and wasn't very stable. He peered through a crack in one of the walls. Inside the dimly-lit shanty was a desk littered with papers, a single candle resting on a shelf, and a young woman curled up in one of the corners. Daniel noticed she was wearing clothing that looked pretty warm. They were dirty, but without a doubt, she was wealthy. Her hands and feet were bound with rope and she had a strip of thick cloth wrapped around her head that the bandits used to keep her gagged.

Daniel waited until he was sure no one was looking and snuck into the shack. The woman became alert upon seeing Daniel. She tried to crawl away from him, but already had her back to a wall. Daniel held his hands out in front of him in an attempt to show the woman he wasn't going to hurt her. She was frightened; Daniel could see that in her eyes. She would have tears streaming down her face if she weren't already dehydrated.

Daniel spoke softly, "Miyako?"

She looked at Daniel cautiously and slowly nodded. Daniel quickly scanned the cabin. He studied the walls and beams that made up the shabby support.

"Alright, I'm gonna get you outta here."

Daniel rest both of his hands on the shelf above Miyako and gently started pushing. The wood above them creaked and moaned. Gradually pushing harder, he made the whole shack rock back and forth subtly. With one swift motion, he pulled himself up and swung his body toward the wall, feet first. He broke right through it. The wall shattered open, sending chunks of rotting wood flying. The other wall creaked and opened up. The support beams caved-in on themselves as well. The whole shack tumbled to the ground, burying Daniel and Miyako in wood chips and dirt. The collapse sent a thin powder of wood and dust through the air. The thugs in the station looked on in confusion. Daniel rose from the ruined shack. He drew a weapon, his favorite pistol and peered down the sight. The silencer affixed to the barrel blocked the sights, which would normally make accurate fire difficult, but Daniel was accustomed to it. He could see the faint glimmer of a lantern through the dust. He fired his gun. The lantern exploded, setting the table it was resting on and a wooden crate next to it ablaze.

"Christ!" one criminal shouted.

Others started shouting in confusion as well.

"What the hell was that?!"

Daniel used the confusion to make his escape. He pulled Miyako up, out of the rubble, and threw her over his shoulder. He sprinted from the wreckage for a nearby staircase.

Daniel could hear the bandits shouting behind him, "We got trouble! Get down here!"

Daniel quickly ducked to the side of the stairs into a shadow. Miyako squirmed in her uncomfortable position, so Daniel gripped her clothes tighter. Two more bandits rushed down the stairs into the station. As soon as they were past, Daniel quickly made his way up and away from the platform. He holstered his pistol and ran into a nearby bathroom. He set Miyako down on the ground beside a toilet stall. He pulled a knife from his belt and cut the rope around her hands and feet.

"I'll get the gag when we're clear," he whispered, "Climb into that vent and crawl through until it ends, then wait for me."

He pointed to a vent above the stall. She nodded.

"Do not stop, no matter what you hear."

She nodded again slowly.

Daniel helped her into the vent and closed the grate behind her. He slipped out of the bathroom and went back the way he came. The bandits were crowded around the ruins of the shack, grumbling amongst each other. Daniel moved to a wall opposite the staircase. He pulled a pipe with a string hanging out of one end from a pouch on his belt. He pulled his trusty automatic rifle from his back and let it dangle from the sling on his shoulder.

His assault rifle was a relic, but it had never failed him. It was older than he was. Its brothers and cousins had seen a hundred battles throughout the years. The unification and division of nations, jungles and deserts, weapons of mass destruction; these were all things his firearm knew. These were all things they had fought for and against.

He lit the fuse of his grenade with his lighter and tossed the pipe onto the tracks across from him a fair distance from the confused bandits. He ran along the wall to the other side and ducked off the platform and onto the tracks. He kept low and ran along the edge of the platform, careful to keep his head from peeking up into the light. The grenade exploded with an angry shriek. The deafening blast startled the already anxious bandits. One stumbled back and fell over. Others shouted expletives repeatedly.

"Go check it out!" one bandit ordered.

A couple of guards slowly made their way toward the explosion, guns ready and trigger-fingers itching. While they were preoccupied, Daniel took the opportunity to slink away. He hugged the wall of the boarding platform and hurried down the tracks. The tunnel was blocked. It had collapsed ages ago. Buried and just barely visible was an iron disc. It reminded Daniel of a man-hole cover. He slung his rifle under his arm to his back and tried to lift the cover. It was heavier than he had first anticipated. He braced himself and lifted the cover on the second try. The sound of metal and rock scraping against each other made much more noise than Daniel had hoped it would. However, no one in the station seemed to notice. Daniel climbed into the small maintenance shaft. Grasping the ladder tightly with one hand, he slid the cover back over the hole with the other as pebbles bounced off of his gasmask.

He climbed down slowly. The walls were lit by an eerie green light from below. It was fairly dim, but bright enough for Daniel to assume the worst. He reached the bottom, but didn't get off the ladder right away. He switched on his flashlight before looking at the ground and down the tunnel before him. Glowing, green mushrooms sprouted from the piles of dirt and rubble. Weaving through the valley between these small hills was a stream of still water. Daniel let out a heavy sigh as his suspicion was confirmed.

"They didn't tell me it was flooded," he said disappointedly.

He stepped off the ladder, being careful not to step in the water, and onto one of the small hills. He stepped on a mushroom. With a weak _crunch _the light emanating from it faded and died. Daniel hopped from hill to hill to avoid the water. After a few quick jumps, he came to a dead end. Between him and the ladder out of the tunnel was a puddle of water. It was much smaller than Daniel felt it was, but it was too large to jump over.

Daniel grumbled to himself, "Out of the frying pan and into the fire."

The puddle was shallow enough to walk through unimpeded. Daniel took a step back and readied himself. He took a deep breath in and slowly released it. He took another deep breath in, then broke into a sprint. His boot hit the ground and sent water through the air. Water droplets shimmered in the dim, green light. Daniel immediately felt weak. He kept running, even though he felt as if he were about to vomit. His body felt like it was burning, freezing, and melting all at once. The portable Geiger counter on his belt went crazy and clicked wildly.

He reached the other end of the shallow lake. As soon as he was out of the water, his knees buckled and he hit the ground. He broke into a coughing fit. He gripped at his neck and squirmed on the ground. He tried to calm himself down. He rolled onto his back and took very rushed deep breaths. When he had regained most of his strength, he got back on his feet. He climbed the ladder out, eager to put the irradiated death-trap behind him. When he reached the top, he was greeted by another tunnel stretching into abysmal darkness.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Boiler Room

The tunnel was chillingly familiar. It was empty, devoid of all life. Daniel could feel something. He felt on edge, almost like he was being suffocated. Most would think it was radiation sickness after what Daniel had just been through, but he knew they would be wrong. Daniel switched on his flashlight and looked around carefully. His light crawled along the wall, down to the floor, then up the tunnel until the spotlight simply disappeared into the darkness of tunnel. He drew his rifle and walked slowly to a nearby room, careful to keep his flashlight straight ahead of him. He reached a storage room. He scanned it slowly. Along the ceiling was a broken ventilation shaft. He continued slowly toward the break where he found Miyako huddled against a box and sobbing.

"Hey," Daniel called out quietly.

Miyako looked up and was blinded by the bright light. She held her hand out in front of her to shield her eyes. Daniel killed his flashlight and struck his lighter. The light made the little silver box shimmer as the flame danced in the darkness. He held it close to his face so she could see. He pulled his knife from its sheath on his belt and used it to cut the cloth wrapped around Miyako's head to keep her muzzled.

Daniel asked gently, "Are you alright?"

"It's hard to breathe and I feel light-headed," Miyako responded.

"Will you be able to walk?"

Miyako nodded.

"Who are you," Miyako asked.

Her voice was shaky. Daniel could tell she'd been through a lot.

As he slid his lighter back into his pocket, he simply answered, "They call me the Prophet."

"Prophet?"

Daniel flipped his flashlight back on and stood up.

"That's what they call me, but I'm nothing special."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm just a guy trying to make a living, like everyone else."

Daniel was overcome by a gloomy feeling around him. The darkness was filled with encroaching dread.

"We need to move," he said hurriedly, "We aren't safe here."

He took her hands in his and helped her stand. Miyako strained to listen for something Daniel may have heard, but was answered with deafening silence.

"Stay right behind me and do not wander off, no matter what. Got it?"

Miyako nodded. She held onto Daniel's shoulder. They walked slowly out of the room and into the tunnel. He carefully looked around with his flashlight back and forth while they walked. Daniel tensely prowled through the dark, being sure to keep between the tracks. He couldn't let his light wander too far downward. Suddenly, the silhouette of a person appeared in his light. He stopped short. The shadow just stood there, as if watching Daniel and Miyako. Daniel slowly scanned around further. The first silhouette vanished, but another appeared in the light. As Daniel continued to look left and right, more silhouettes vanished and appeared in his light. Miyako gripped Daniel tightly. As the foreboding darkness continued to drown him, his breathing became much more strained.

"Is something there?" Miyako whispered.

Daniel could feel her voice tremble.

"You could say that," Daniel said.

"What is it?"

"Tunnels like this one are different from the rest," Daniel explained, "Dying in this tunnel does not offer reprieve from our world."

Miyako looked into the shadows with uneasy eyes.

"Spirits get trapped here, like a dog locked in a boiler room."

Daniel lowered his voice. Remorse clung to his words.

"These poor souls don't know they died, though. So, they reach out to anyone they can, searching for help. If they do grab you, they will pull you in with them. You will become one of them."

Miyako gripped Daniel's clothes tightly and shrunk behind him.

Daniel tried to reassure her, "That's not to say they want to hurt you, and God still watches over us. He'll see us through."

Daniel put away his rifle and clasped his hands together. He bowed his head and began to chant.

"The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters.He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil. My cup runneth over.Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

As he prayed, Daniel lifted his head and walked forward. He repeated the prayer over and over as he and Miyako walked through the tunnel. Miyako watched the light and glanced around into the dark. The silhouettes dispersed and glided slowly away from them when they got close. Daniel could hear their whispers, but he couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. What he did catch was unsettling. He could hear their sorrow. They screamed in agony. They asked for help. They asked for forgiveness. They called out for anyone to hear them, with no one to answer. He could feel their regrets. He knew what they wanted, but he was in no position to make an offer. Their cries pierced his very soul. The screeching darkness and ghastly sobs haunted him. Even their stares burned his very skin. He started to sweat. Their wailing invaded his thoughts. Screams of agony bounced through his mind. Horrible roars of anger clawed at his ears. Each tremor of their incomprehensible dismay sent a shiver down his spine and caused him to flinch. Miyako could feel him trembling and grew worried. Daniel did not stop praying, though he could hardly breathe. He moved forward. He felt as though he were being guided along. He took comfort in that feeling and pressed on. They rounded a curve and were greeted by a light. Miyako was overjoyed. She wanted to rush toward it, but Daniel's previous words echoed in her mind. She stayed close behind him. They slowly moved closer and closer to the light. Daniel never realized when it happened, but he began to feel the tightness in the air dissipate and he could breathe easily again. He could hear the wind howling through the tunnel and the gentle chatter of the mice. He continued praying, to be safe.

The duo reached the source of the light: a lantern hanging from a handcart. An old, ugly man was sitting on the cart whittling a carving out of a hunk of wood. Daniel failed to make out what the carving was supposed to be. He stopped praying and let out a sigh of relief.

"You got the girl?" the old man inquired.

His voice was like that of a dog growling. Miyako stepped into the light from behind Daniel. The old man set down the carving and sat up.

He put his hands on the iron hand-crank and said, "Hop on."

Daniel helped Miyako onto the cart. He climbed on after her and they both took their seats. The man began pushing the crank up and down and the cart began to move. It slowly started to gain speed. The headlights on the cart lit up the tunnel ahead. Miyako could see small, ugly critters shuffling about in the darkness and scurry into burrows when the cart passed by. Her gaze darted at each shadow she thought she saw move. Daniel took notice. When Miyako realized he was watching, she buried her face in her knees.

"You've never been out of the station before this, have you?" Daniel asked

She shook her head. Daniel slouched in his seat.

"Well, I hope you never have to leave it again," he whispered with a hint of sympathy in his voice.

The old man stopped cranking the cart and let it coast down the tracks.

"We're here," he grumbled.

The cart came to a giant metal door that sealed the tunnel. It bumped into the door and slowly rolled backward before coming to a complete stop.

"Hey, open up in there," the old man shouted.

Floodlights flashed on, lighting up the cart and blinding Daniel.

"Stick, is 'at you?" a voice from beyond the door asked, "You done wit'at job a'ready?"

"Never takes long with this one."

Stick pointed over his shoulder at Daniel with his thumb. The gate guard was surprised.

"No freakin' way," he stammered, "Is 'at the Prophet?"

Daniel felt a bit embarrassed.

"I'll phone the Boss and let 'im know you're comin'."

Miyako was surprised the men who had just rescued her were so well known.

She asked curiously, "Why do they call you 'Stick?'"

Stick simply muttered, "I drive."

Miyako looked at him quizzically. His answer was lost on her. Daniel tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention and pointed at the hand-crank. She looked at it for a moment before she responded.

"I think I get it," she said sheepishly.

The iron doors began to open. The locks clicked loudly as they released and the barring mechanism made a loud screech as it slid open. The giant door slowly swung open. Stick slowly pushed the crank up and down and let the cart gently glide past the gate. Before them was a wall made of wooden planks that blocked the tunnel. Beside them were a narrow hallway and a boarding platform. Once they were through, Stick let the cart stop and stepped onto the platform. The hermetic door swung closed. The sound of the seals locking was more painful to listen to than when they opened. Daniel hopped onto the platform and helped Miyako off the cart. Stick stopped to talk to one of the guards while Daniel brought Miyako down another corridor.

"That's the real Prophet?" Daniel overheard a guard say in disbelief, "I only heard stories about that guy!"

Miyako held onto Daniel's sleeve tightly. At the end of the hall were two older men. Daniel recognized one of them.

He was a natural leader with an air of confidence about him. He was wearing his favorite blue jeans and ragged leather jacket. The jacket accentuated his large physique and broad shoulders, even if it was torn up in small patches all over the sleeves. His messy hair had streaks of grey running through it and a heavy beard hugged his face, giving him a grizzly look.

"Miyako!" the unfamiliar man called.

Miyako's eyes filled with tears.

She called back, "Oto-san!"

She ran to him and jumped into his arms. Daniel couldn't understand most of what they were saying, but strained to interpret it as best he could.

"Die-joe-boo?"

Miyako buried her face into the man's embrace and nodded her head.

"Yoh-kah-tah!"

The two turned to look at Daniel.

The man bowed and said with tears in his eyes, "A-ree-gah-to-go-zai-mas-soo!"

Daniel still couldn't understand what he was saying and struggled to find something to say.

"My father says: 'Thank you very much'," Miyako said with a smile.

Daniel was surprised. She sounded confident, as if she were a whole other person now.

"If there's anything we can do for you, just tell us."

"Payment has already been received," Daniel explained.

Miyako and her father bowed one last time and disappeared through a double-door behind them.

"So, how'd it go, Danny-boy?" Daniel's old friend asked cheerfully.

"You might want to have your scouts do another sweep of the tunnels, Ross. My escape route was flooded."

"Oh! Sounds bad! You alright, at least?"

"Aside from radiation sickness and a case of the 'heebie-jeebies,' I'd say it went off without a hitch."

"Ah, so, it's a vodka night!"

Ross laughed heartily. His uplifting attitude always made Daniel feel at ease.

"Well, let's get you debriefed and paid."

Ross placed one hand on either door handle.

"Oh, and Dan," Ross said, "Welcome home."

Ross pushed the doors and they swung open. The sudden flash of light blinded Daniel.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Welcome Home

Daniel's eyes adjusted to the bright lights. The station was bustling as people hurried by. Wooden stalls, covered in goods, lined up in rows. Old stores that hadn't been boarded up or caved in glimmered with inviting, colorful lights. Shop keepers shouted and waved their arms, trying to lure people to their stalls to buy their goods. Fruits, vegetables, vitamins, guns, ammunition, gas masks, air filters, auto parts, oil; anything Daniel could ever need was right here in the market. There was even a stall selling condoms and beer. One shop keeper tossed an apple to Ross. Ross turned and handed it to Daniel with a smile and shouted something. Daniel couldn't hear him over the crowd, but took the apple anyway. Ross led Daniel through the crowd. They passed by an ammo vendor apathetically trading different types of bullets with costumers. An arms-dealer jauntily conversed with a costumer about how reliable his guns were. A man sat against a wall, munching away on a granola bar.

They stopped at a local bar to get Daniel a drink. As they waited for the bartender to bring them their order, Daniel surveyed the room. Melancholy figures slouched over the bar, devoid of all hope. Others sang happily at their tables. Two men compared strength with arm-wrestling. Others enjoyed idle conversation. Daniel watched a waitress dressed in hardly anything – high-heels, jeans cut extremely short, and a black t-shirt tied at the waist – strut from table to table with drinks. Two men got into an argument. One lunged across their table and punched the other. They began to fight, battering each other and knocking over tables. They had to be broken up by two Peacemakers, the law enforcement of the station, who then proceeded to throw the drunken combatants out of the bar. After the commotion was through with, the bartender placed a large bottle of vodka on the counter. Daniel took the bottle and followed Ross out of the bar.

They came to the industrial platforms. Crates stacked atop one another towered over the pair. Men carried boxes back and forth. Hand carts periodically rolled in to unload cargo. Daniel and Ross passed by a make-shift ranch. A rooster crossed their path and arrogantly strolled in front of them. Ross swatted the conceited cockerel. It clucked and fluttered its wings before making its way back to a pen with other chickens. Pigs locked in pens shuffled and squealed. A couple of kids poked and prodded one pig until an old man stormed out of his home and shouted at them. They scurried away giggling.

Daniel and Ross passed through the common area. The crowded underground hallway stretched wide. Musicians strummed away at guitars and banged on old paint-buckets. One man performed magic tricks for a group of children. A woman sat against a pillar and read a book aloud to her son. Daniel and Ross passed by the armory. Looking into a door-way as he passed by, Daniel saw a young man firing a gun at a target on the wall. He was a terrible shot but it probably didn't help that he was using a "P. o. S." They passed by two men strapping on heavy vests and other assorted equipment ranging from belts wrenches and hammers hanging from them to bandoliers littered with ammunition and explosives. They strolled right through a guard checkpoint, vaulting over the gate made from a collection of rusty fences. A civilian trying to get through became angry and shouted at the guard.

Ross led Daniel into a dingy office and closed the door behind them. A bookshelf repurposed as a liquor cabinet stood against the back wall of the room. The bottles gleamed in the dim candle light. Ross pulled two small glass cups and a bottle of whiskey from the shelf and sat behind his desk. Neat stacks of paper and books littered one end of the desk. He placed one glass on either side of his desk and gestured for Daniel to take a seat. Daniel set the bottle of vodka on the desk and sat in the chair across the desk from Ross. He unhooked the buckle on his helmet and pulled it off. The gas mask attached to the helmet slid off along with it. He set them on the ground amd wiped his hands down his face. The short strings of hair clinging to his chin were damp with sweat and the moisture from his breath. Daniel preferred to shave as often as he could, but a decent razor was hard to come by. Ross twisted open the scotch and poured some into his glass. He set the bottle down on another table beside him between a typewriter and a desk lamp. Daniel decided to pour himself a drink as well. As Daniel opened his bottle, Ross began to reminisce.

"Boy, this takes me back," he sighed and sat back in his chair, "Last time we shared a drink, you broke my nose!"

Daniel took a sip of his drink.

Daniel asked, "Yeah, I remember a certain someone bragging about his younger days and saying he could take anyone in a fight. You were a real tough guy."

"Hey! If I remember correctly, I still knocked you out!"

"I don't remember that part."

They both looked at each other for a moment before sharing a laugh.

"Hey, you remember when we first found what was going on in the stadium?"

"Yeah, don't remind me."

"Oh, man! I couldn't believe it! New York was always a fucked up town, but Jesus!"

Daniel cleared his throat.

"Ah, my bad."

"Forget it. I'm just glad we got those kids out of there."

"Ha-yeah. Times are rough, but eating other people? I feel like that's a bit extreme. Howler ribs are just as good as pork!"

"Whatever happened to Roy after that?"

"You mean Freckle-Face? I think he's on beat out in Residential."

Daniel leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. A fan slowly rotated in a circle.

"So, Danny-boy, give me the det's."

"Everything went according to plan. No problems, minor obstacles."

"You mean the flooded exit?"

"Yeah."

"Casualties?"

"Nil."

"Anything else?"

"I collapsed a shack. Nothing they can't just rebuild."

"Were you seen?"

"Not a chance."

"For once, I'm not going to have an angry mob boss banging on my door tomorrow, am I?"

Ross laughed aloud.

"Looks like I owe you that bonus, then."

Ross opened a safe under his desk and pulled out several clips of bullets; high-end, military-grade ammunition. The brass casing of the bullets sparkled like gold in the flickering light.

"Here you go, old friend," Ross said after presenting the bullets, "Fifteen five-point-five-six-by-forty-five military-grade rounds; ten for the job and five for the bonus; the only thing still worth more than garbage down here."

Daniel leaned over the desk, nearly pushing over his glass, and took the clip. He didn't need to count them. Ross was never the type of man to cheat someone. He dropped them into his pocket. He then re-sealed the bottle of vodka and placed it in a side pouch on his rucksack.

"I'll let you know if anything else comes up," Ross said as he closed his safe.

Daniel gave a quick and relaxed salute with his index and middle fingers and headed out the door. He passed back through the Commons. He stopped and leaned against a pillar to listen to a musician strumming a guitar. The guitar was tuned terribly, but it was still a beautiful, rustic melody. He took the clip of military-grade rounds out of his pocket, pulled two rounds off, and dropped them into the man's guitar case. The man gave Daniel a grateful smile.

"Thank you, sir," he said as he continued to play his guitar.

Daniel walked down a nearby hallway. Make-shift wooden doors closed off doorways to bathrooms and closets. Light shone through the cracks and Daniel could hear people moving or talking behind them. At the end of the hall was a boarding platform. A derelict train rested on the tracks. Daniel could see bunk beds through the train car windows. Some were even occupied. He followed the overhead signs that read "S" emblazoned in a grey circle. It was easy to see that some had been replaced with plywood and paint. Daniel reached another boarding platform. Several railbikes rested at the station. The railbikes looked like motorcycles with sidecar passenger seats to Daniel. However, they were more like motorized handcars than anything else. Four wheels gripped the tracks tightly. The handle bars were merely for control of the throttle and brakes, but could be used to turn the railbike manually in an emergency. A man sitting on one of the railbikes took notice of Daniel.

"Transport to Grand Station'll cost you two Tabby-killers," the driver said.

Daniel pulled two more bullets from his clip and placed them in the driver's hand. Daniel took his seat in the sidecar. The driver started the engine. It sputtered on and the scent of gasoline mingled with the already musty air. It wasn't a particularly long trip, but Daniel grew impatient. Drowsiness sat on his shoulders like a heavy weight and he wanted to sleep. He watched the guards and workers zip by as he passed them. It didn't help Daniel's mood when traffic was held up by a de-railed railbike. One of its wheels had come loose from the tracks. Two old men sat by a campfire playing with cards and talking. Daniel listened to them talk.

"I remember, long time ago there w's another war. Rattled the bones of the whole city," one droned on, "Struct'ral integrity and what-not got all shook up and they had to rebuild the whole subway!"

The other man scoffed in disbelief, "That weren't no war! It was terrorists, you old coot!"

"Then why'd they have the army block off all the exits all those years ago?"

"That's 'cause your memory's all flip-flopped, you ding-bat. Them blockin' the exits was 'cause of the war."

Further down the tunnel a guard shouted, "All clear! Send 'em through!"

The railbike rattled onward. Daniel soon reached another station platform.

"Welcome to Grand Central," the driver said apathetically, "Thank you for using Grand Square transportation. We hope to see you again."

Daniel could tell that the driver had repeated the same line a million times before. He stepped onto the platform.

"This city never changes," Daniel mumbled to himself as he walked away from the tracks.

Further down the track he watched a group of men use a crane to pull railbikes off the tracks and set them on the opposite set to head the other direction. The crane was made of thick, sturdy wooden beams and rope. Lifting and lowering was all done by a few muscular men. Daniel headed deeper into the station. He passed by the mess hall. He looked up at a sign hanging from the ceiling. The words had become marred and illegible. The mess hall was always and had always been a crowded place. It had been a restaurant in the past. He pushed his way through the crowd. It was always tough, but his suit helped to encourage people to move aside and let him pass. His suit was composed of old Army fatigues that had been painted black. He had hard leather braces strapped to his forearms and shins, as well as a Kevlar vest on under his coat. His helmet was like those of the modern Army's, but it had been painted black as well. The straps of his gasmask embraced his helmet like tendrils. He headed down a flight of stairs and through another wide hallway. He passed by shanties and people squatting around lamps or lanterns. He stopped at a door in the wall, hidden between two of the makeshift houses. He grasped the handle tightly. He quickly jerked the knob up and twisted it. The door cracked open and Daniel stepped inside. Daniel closed the door to his home behind him. It was a tiny room, but it was one of the more spacious anyone outside of the wealthy neighborhood could find in the subway. His cot sat against the back wall two large steps from the door. His desk rested against another wall with only a radio and desk lamp on it. Daniel didn't know why he had the desk as he felt it just took up space. On the opposite wall hung a bulletin board with a map of the subway and assorted notes pinned to it. Underneath that was a bookshelf with various books, papers, and cups scattered about on the shelves. Daniel removed his backpack and set it on the floor next to his desk. He pulled a mug from the bookshelf and sat in the chair at his desk. It creaked and wobbled under his weight. He removed the half-empty bottle of vodka from his bag and placed it on the desk. He flipped on the lamp and the radio. A voice started blaring from the speakers.

"A-hoy, you salty scallywags," it said, "This is your one and only favorite: Captain Blackbeard, on your one and only favorite pirate radio broadcast. Why do they call me 'Blackbeard?' Well, hell-fire and a good singe will do that to ya."

Daniel poured himself a drink.

"I'm sailing the high sea and surfing the radio waves, because there's no one left to stop me!"

Daniel swiftly gulped down his drink. He stood up and began unfastening the pieces of armor on his suit and placing them beside his desk.

"Speaking of waves, we've got a welcome change from our usual line-up of depressing Government declaration speeches, heart-breaking love songs, and head-rattling beats for something nice and smooth. But first, we've got a bit of news for all of you out there."

Daniel sat on his bed.

"My good man in the old crow's nest informs me of impending doom deep down south…"

Daniel stretched out on his bed and covered his eyes with his arm.

"Apparently, Howlers have been acting mighty finicky lately. Sounds like something's got 'em spooked. My guess is a pack of tabbies making claims on their waters. Others have reported a strange, blue glow deep in the tunnels. Army says they've got it under control, but you Stalkers better keep your eyes open…"

Daniel listened closely with intrigue. The story had piqued his interest.

"Anyway, getting this ship back on course: our latest score is teeming with all kinds of treasure."

"Every time…" Daniel scoffed quietly.

Blackbeard continued, "Here's a special treat for you all out there from the Captain's secret chest. I dunno what an 'Ipanema' is, but it sure sounds damned interesting."

The radio started playing a song. It was gentle and easy on the ears, unlike what is usually played. Daniel recognized the song. As he drifted to sleep, he tried to remember the name of the song, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Daniel kept thinking about it, while the song started to fade away. As it grew further and further away, Daniel only thought harder. It was on the tip of his tongue. The song finally faded until it was gone and Daniel drifted to sleep.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: De Oppresso Liber

Daniel opened his eyes. He sat up and rubbed them. His radio was silent. That could only mean someone had come by to drop off a message from Ross, which was usually the case. He stood up and walked to his desk. As he had suspected, there was a note from Ross taped to the lamp. It read: _We've got a problem_. Daniel slipped on his coat and headed out the door. As Daniel walked to the S-platform he noticed that more than a few of the lights were shut off. The mess hall was especially dim, but still as busy as always. Daniel watched as a group of men carrying toolboxes breezed through the crowd and shuffled down a flight of stairs. Daniel figured one of the generators had shut down again. He took a railbike to Square station and hurried to Ross' office. There was a guard standing by the door, leaning against the wall. His rifle gleamed as if it were freshly polished. His boots shone as well. He was wearing a uniform that used to be standard issue for U.S. soldiers. It was clean, which was increasingly rare this far north. Daniel stopped in front of him. The guard reached over and banged his fist against the door twice. The door swung open, revealing a dark room. Daniel stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Ross lit his lantern and the room was flooded with light. There was another man in the room with them. He stood at attention behind Ross' desk. Daniel didn't recognize him, but he recognized the uniform.

"What's the Army doing here?" Daniel asked, neglecting to hide the agitation in his voice, "We had an agreement."

"We had a treaty," the man said.

The clover-like symbol on his sleeve indicated he was an important man.

"A treaty that Colonel Caul believes has expired," he continued.

Ross stood up from his desk walked over to Daniel.

"I understand you might be a little upset, but I need you to listen to him," Ross pleaded.

Daniel crossed his arms and took a step back.

"Major Diaz," the soldier said and stood at attention.

Daniel questioned, "You're probably here to occupy our station and impose your law on us. Isn't that what you people do?"

"I'm not with the Fed's. The Colonel believes that nurturing the growth of these 'free stations' like yours is for the best. He believes it will allow the people to rebuild without restrictions before coming together as a new, stronger nation. I'm here to discuss terms for a renewal of our treaty."

"You consider yourself some sort of negotiator, then?"

"I prefer 'ambassador.'"

Daniel felt a heavy heat building deep within his gut as he talked with the man.

"What do you want?"

"I would like cooperation."

Daniel suddenly flew into a rage. He slammed his fist down on Ross' desk. An empty liquor bottle tipped and fell over.

Daniel shouted, "Bullshit! If you assholes wanted to cooperate, you'd have started a fucking decade ago!"

Ross tried to snap Daniel out of his anger.

"Danny, buddy, you gotta calm down," Ross said softly, "I ran with the Army once, remember? They aren't like what you know them to be anymore."

"Don't they call you 'the Prophet'?" Diaz asked calmly, "Doesn't your scripture say to 'turn the other cheek' and 'love your enemy?'"

Daniel retorted, "God will forgive me for my sins, but I will not forgive you for yours."

Ross gently pushed Daniel and sat him down in the chair in front of his desk.

"Danny, I need you to relax," Ross said sternly, "I get that you and the Army ain't friends, but that's irrelevant right now."

"Irrelevant?" Daniel yelled, "You're saying my fucking sister was irrelevant?!"

Ross' brow furled, his lips curled into a scowl, and he raised his voice as he said, "I'm saying your sister is dead. She died years ago, and to make sure the rest of the people in Grand Square don't die too, I need you on the same page here!"

Daniel stood up, sending the chair sliding back, and continued shouting at Ross.

"I don't give a damn! You don't know what I lost!"

Ross started shouting back.

"I had family too! The difference here is that I was able to get my head out of my ass and look at the big picture!"

"Big picture? Who the fuck are you, Michelangelo?"

"Living people make for a whole hell of a lot better paintings than dead ones, and I'm plenty sure all those people out there would agree with me!"

"Fuck them, and fuck you!"

Daniel stared Ross straight in the eyes, and Ross glared right back. Daniel clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He could feel his ears burning, but otherwise couldn't think straight. He knew Ross didn't mean to insult him, but painful memories and biting words swirled through his mind, which only served to fuel the fire more and more. Ross stood upright, almost stoically. His fists were balled up as well, but he kept his arms at his sides.

Ross spoke very quietly, but very sternly, "Those people out there are alive. If you want to live on the edge and get yourself killed, that's one thing. I understand."

Ross slowly lifted his arm and pointed toward the door.

"But they don't have that choice. They can't choose to fight and die. They have to depend on people like us to protect them. We can't all be heroes. They need you. You're the only one I can trust with this."

Daniel clearly understood what Ross was saying, but he didn't want to accept it. He didn't want to work with the Army.

"Blessed are the peacemakers," Ross said.

Daniel's resolve finally broke.

"Fuck…" Daniel growled. As he jerked back and leaned on his arm against the wall he shouted, "Fuck!"

Ross turned to Diaz and said, "Fill him in."

Ross sat down in his chair behind his desk.

"As you already know, Army Rangers have been trying to bring order to the citizens of post-disaster Manhattan, New York," Diaz explained, "To do so, we have been spreading out and expanding from City Hall Station, establishing outposts in places ranging from Penn Station and Lexington Station, all the way to Union Square Station. Grand Square has been very helpful in allowing travel through your station with little resistance. However, others have not been as accommodating…"

Diaz leaned over Ross' desk.

"Recently, we've been working to secure Central Park and the surrounding stations. En route to Central Park North station, a train codenamed 'Boxcar One' was ambushed and captured by bandits. They were heavily armed and astoundingly organized. The acting CO deemed a retreat necessary."

"So, what?" Daniel asked, still trying to calm himself down, "You want me to take over a train alone?"

"Negative. We have a team organized."

"Then why do you need me?"

"Several reasons: you know the area, we wish to improve relations with your station, and we have information on the recent attack on your station that you need."

"What attack?"

Ross swiftly answered, "Someone tried to sabotage one of our generators."

Daniel remembered his trip to the office and the darkened mess hall.

Diaz continued, "We have information that suggests another attack will be launched fairly soon. If you want to have any chance of stopping it, this information could possibly guarantee success."

Ross tried reasoning with Daniel further, "Those generators are our livelihood. If they go out, people could freeze to death and we'd have to deal with our food stores spoiling. Not to mention our tunnel gates are powered by those generators too, so defending from a raid would be impossible."

Daniel started to realize the severity of the situation.

"You think bandits could organize something like this?" Daniel asked.

"Not exactly," Diaz said, "We believe they have some sort of backing from the Federal Government."

Ross questioned, "You guys are still fighting them, huh?"

"They wish to preserve America the way it was before The War. The Colonel believes that a change is necessary; a change that can only be accomplished through a new order."

"Yeah, and you don't care who you trample along the way," Daniel grumbled.

Diaz ignored his comment and continued further, "We need you and this team to keep this quiet. We need intel above all else. The train is important, but we need to know what they're trying to do by assaulting us."

Ross inquired further, "How do you know it's the Fed's?"

Diaz answered, "We captured one. When subjected to intense interrogation, any typical bandit would have cracked immediately, but this man…"

"So, we're dealing with Federal bandits that also happen to be battle-hardened super-soldiers; is that right?" Daniel asked snidely, "And how did you people even get a train running anyway?"

Diaz scowled and said, "Ingenuity and elbow-grease."

Daniel laughed mirthlessly under his breath.

"At least you're witty."

Diaz took a two-way radio from his back pocket and spoke into it, "Send them in."

Daniel moved away from the door. He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and lowered his head to make himself seem as uninviting as possible. Shortly afterward, the door swung open and two men in military uniforms stepped into the office. The door was closed behind them. They stood at attention in front of the desk.

"At ease, gentlemen," Diaz ordered, "Take a seat."

The soldiers each found themselves a chair and sat in front of Ross' desk.

"Meet the Prophet," Diaz said sarcastically, "He's a big ball of sunshine and your new best friend."

Daniel ignored him.

Diaz began the briefing, "I'm sure you've already been told the details, so I'll keep it short. You three are going to be gathering intelligence on the capability of the bandits that commandeered Boxcar One and, if possible, recapturing it."

Diaz gestured to the board behind him. Two maps were pinned to it. One was a map of the city; the other was a map of the subway. Pinned to each map were a handful of thumbtacks. Diaz pointed to one of the pins on the subway map.

"According to our scouts, Boxcar One is currently holding position in an abandoned station somewhere between79th and Cathedral Parkway. From what I hear, these bandits have every station between those two locked down."

Ross added, "That could be why we haven't heard from anyone up north recently."

Diaz pointed to a pin further down on the map with "72" written next to it.

"72nd street station will be the staging area for this operation. You three will head through the tunnel until you meet up with Sergeant Raven at 72nd. He will lead you to the objective. From then on, you are on your own. With our current equipment, we can't maintain radio communication either."

Diaz pointed to a pin on the city map. It was right in the middle of a green rectangle and labeled "Central Park."

"We've also gotten reports of increased hawk activity on the surface in that area. Something has them agitated, so retreat via surface is out of the question."

Diaz pointed to another pin on the subway map.

"With that said, if you can't retrieve Boxcar One and return it to 72nd Station, You might be able to regroup with Sergeant Oxford and his team. They were ordered to stand by in Central Park North Station until we could make contact with them."

Diaz turned back to the soldiers.

"If no one has any questions, this briefing is concluded. Meet up on the Red Line, boots up in two hours. You are dismissed."

The soldiers stood up and walked out of the office. Diaz soon followed behind them. Ross relaxed in his chair and let out a heavy sigh.

"You sure you'll be able to do this?" he asked Daniel with a hint of concern.

Daniel simply nodded.

Ross continued, "You know, a few years ago, you'd have taken a swing at me."

Daniel replied, "I got my head out of my ass. Now I just need to look for the bigger picture."

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against and started toward the door.

"Good luck, old friend," Ross added as Daniel walked out of the office.

Daniel walked back to his home. He didn't bother taking a railbike to Grand Station. He strolled down the tunnel, keeping to the wall to stay out of the way of the taxis that rattled by. He passed through the mess hall, which was still darkened. It was difficult to see, but the crowd was thin. Daniel felt as though it was easier to get home than it normally was. He arrived at his home and stepped inside. After closing the door behind him, he switched on the radio and sat at his desk. A familiar voice crackled through the room.

His voice blaring through the speakers, mid-sentence the voice said, "-ood old first mate here can man the helm for a bit, because Blackbeard's goin' below deck."

Daniel reached for his bag to check his equipment.

"We've been hearin' reports about a strange new mutant in the west. Seems there's a storm brewin'. Stalkers report a massive, spooky, grey beast resting atop the Hudson…"

Daniel found himself distracted and tried to focus on his bag.

"So far, they say, all it's been doing is sleeping. Best to leave the kraken alone, I say. Save those cannonballs for the Fed's, am I right? Heheh…"

Daniel set his pack on the ground and proceeded to check his rifle. He inspected the sight. He removed the magazine and set it on the table.

"Before I go, I've got one more little doubloon to share with you all. The crew and I found some fine little gems in our last excursion abroad. Our last score netted us records from an age of making love or war or somethin'. It's all mumbo-jumbo to me, but I do love some old-time rock 'n' roll!"

Daniel placed his rifle on the desk and drew his pistol to inspect it as well.

"That's all for now, you scallywags. I'm shoving off! We've got plenty a merry tune lined up, though, so sing along if you know the words. I'm sailing the radioactive radio waves, all day, every day, because shore leave is for harbor hogs! This is Cap'n Blackbeard on your one and only favorite pirate radio station! Why am I your favorite? Well, I'm the only scurvy-infested sea-dog on the air! Who else're you gonna listen to? Heheh…"

Daniel continued to inspect his weapon in the dim light as the radio began humming a song.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Red Line

Daniel stood quietly against a wall and listened to a man strum away on his guitar. It whispered quiet notes with every strike. It wasn't like the guitars he'd usually see in the station. He recalled something someone had said to him when he was in Penn Station.

"This is my 'axe,'" he remembered the man shouting proudly, "My pride, my joy, and my soul!"

Daniel remembered them from before the war. Guitars wired to speakers that screeched and growled with every flick of the strings. Every pluck had its own unique roar. Daniel admired the instrument and the skill to be able to use it. He wished he could listen to one actually connected to a speaker like he had used to. Daniel's attention began to wander, eventually roosting on the thought of the Red Line. It once bustled with handcarts and railbuggies, but had recently been almost deserted. The sound of commerce had departed, with only the gentle echo of the rest of the station left in its place. Daniel thought to himself that Ross may have been right about the bandits blocking travel. Diaz and the two soldiers from earlier arrived and stood next to the tracks. The soldiers were wearing their full uniforms and were fully equipped with their small submachine guns. They looked like snub-nosed assault rifles with a thin bar where the stock should be and the magazines looked like a banana cut into a box. Daniel lamented how bright their uniforms were. He wasn't sure the shadows were what these boys were accustomed to. Diaz spoke into a radio he was holding before slipping it into his back pocket. Shortly after, a motorized railcart, conducted by a mangy-looking pig of a man, slowly inched into the station and stopped in front of the soldiers. Daniel felt that was his cue to join them. He walked past the guitarist, dropping a couple of bullets into the baseball cap on the ground and headed toward the cart.

Diaz noticed Daniel walking toward them and said, "Looks like everyone's here. Good luck, gentlemen."

Diaz walked into the station and disappeared from sight. The two soldiers stepped onto the cart. Daniel followed and took his seat. When the other soldiers had taken their seat, the driver pushed down a lever. The railcart quickly gained speed and headed north. Daniel crossed his arms and slouched in his seat. He hoped to get some sleep before meeting with the contact. He recognized the driver. Stick's scowl was unmistakable, and his familiar musty odor seeped through Daniel's mask. Daniel contemplated using an air-filter, but decided not to waste it.

"Hey man, what's your name?" one soldier asked the other.

The other responded, "Corporal Gene. You?"

"Robins."

Robins and Gene shook hands. Their conversation kept Daniel awake. He listened and thought about what he considered the beginning of a close friendship.

"What about you?" Robins turned to Daniel and asked.

Daniel didn't answer. The light of the lamp on the cart created a glare on Daniel's gas mask. He was confident that neither Robins nor Gene could see through it. They began to whisper.

Robins asked Gene, "Think he's asleep?"

"Nah, man," Gene answered, "He's probably praying."

Robins looked confused.

"Praying?"

"Yeah, didn't you hear the Major? That's the Prophet."

"No shit?"

"No shit! They say he ain't afraid of death; I don't think he's even human. That god of his has to be magic or something!"

"There's no such thing. He's asleep, I'm telling you!"

Daniel decided to interrupt their conversation.

Daniel sneered, "You two'll leave the thinking to your betters, if you know what's good for you."

The looks on their faces made Daniel think they weren't sure whether to be confused or angry. Gene and Robins fell silent. Daniel thought this was his chance to finally get some sleep. After a few moments, one of the soldiers carried on their conversation.

"So, when did you make Corporal?" Robins asked Gene.

Daniel grew a bit annoyed, but didn't say anything.

"Few weeks ago," Gene responded, "I kept my head down and did what I was told. It was either the service or the smithy. What about you?"

"When I volunteered for this assignment."

"You volunteered?"

"My brother was in Sergeant Oxford's unit. I'm hoping he's still alive."

Gene lowered his voice to a whisper, "I hope the same can be said for us after this…"

He motioned toward Daniel. Daniel looked up at them. They took notice and quickly moved away from each other. By the look on their faces, Daniel could tell they were more afraid of him than whatever group of bandits they were told about. The cart was silent for the rest of the ride, save for the gentle and steady clacking of the wheels on the tracks. Regardless, Daniel couldn't get to sleep the whole way. The cart came to a stop at an abandoned boarding platform. Crumbs and blocks of concrete littered the floor in small piles. An old shell of a train occupied a portion of the tracks across the platform. Most of the train had been stripped for parts, but what couldn't be taken remained as a rest stop for the station. Daniel could see what looked like the counter of a bar on one of the cars. A single fluorescent light hung from the ceiling and illuminated the bottom few steps of the staircase leading out of the station. Another man wearing an Army uniform stepped out of the shadows and into the light.

"Front and center, boys," the man ordered.

Robins and Gene quickly stood up, rushed off the cart, and stood at attention in front of the man.

"Name and rank," the man demanded.

Robins spoke quickly, "Corporal Robins, sir!"

Gene spoke just as quickly, "Corporal Gene, sir!"

They both saluted the man. Daniel looked at the emblem on the man's arm. He had the symbol for the rank of sergeant sewn onto his sleeve just under his shoulder.

"At ease, boys," the sergeant said.

Daniel stood up and stepped off the cart. The engine sputtered. The cart began rolling into the darkness back the way they had come from.

"No goin' back now…" Daniel muttered to himself.

"Hey," the sergeant called out, "Fall in line, soldier. Gimme your name and rank."

"I don't take orders from you," Daniel said harshly.

The sergeant walked up to Daniel. His eyes were just about level with Daniel's.

"Well, pardon me, Cupcake," the sergeant said.

His voice was solid. It didn't give off a hint of sarcasm, but his choice of words made it obvious that he was patronizing Daniel.

"Sergeant Raven," the sergeant said, his tone unchanged, "Who exactly are you, then?"

Daniel recalled the mission briefing. This was his contact.

"They call me the Prophet," Daniel answered.

Raven seemed surprised at first, but soon relaxed a little.

"It's about time they sent me someone with some experience," Raven said, "All they've sent me the last few times were kids."

Raven looked over his shoulder at the two rookies. Robins and Gene were playing "rock-paper-scissors." The winner would punch the loser in the arm.

"Well… One of three is good enough, I guess," Raven said disappointedly.

He quickly changed the subject.

"I don't know what the Major told you, but the situation has changed," Raven explained, "The bandits have modified Boxcar One a bit. They've completely removed the passenger car and ripped a box-car open, likely for the scrap metal. So, now there are only 9 cars, with only the other box-car left on. They've also started loading crates onto the flat cars."

"What does that mean for us?" Daniel asked.

"It means they plan to move soon."

Raven started walking toward the tracks.

"Saddle up, boys," Raven called out.

As he walked away he put his helmet and mask on. The mask was attached similarly to how Daniel's was to his helmet. Normally, such fashion is limited to Stalkers or Hunters since they frequented the surface. Daniel wasn't sure what to think of Sergeant Raven. He had a strong look in his eyes, and seemed reliable. If he weren't an Army soldier, Daniel may have been able to trust him. Daniel followed Raven off the platform and onto the tracks. They made their way down the tunnel and into the darkness. Robins switched on a flashlight on his helmet. Raven immediately placed his hand over it.

"Your eyes will adjust," Raven said sternly.

Robins pressed the switch on the flashlight again and turned it off. They walked a short way before Daniel could hear a familiar voice echoing through the tunnel. Raven stopped and pulled his gun off his thigh. Daniel noticed his sub-machine gun was shorter than the other soldiers'. It had no stock and a shorter barrel with a small silencer on the end. He also had an Army assault rifle on his back. Daniel had heard them called "Desert Battle Rifles" before. He assumed it was a term from before the bombs. Daniel had never seen a soldier carry anything other than a pistol with their rifles. He pushed the thought aside when Raven began making hand gestures. He made a fist, extended his arm to his side slightly, flattened his hand, and slowly lowered it before bringing it back to his gun and lowering his body into a crouch. The other two soldiers immediately pulled their SMGs from their backs and lowered into a crouch. Daniel decided to follow suit and crouched down. Raven made another hand gesture. This time, simply extending one finger upward and spinning his arm, making a small circle in the air. He quickly moved against a wall. The two young soldiers followed close behind. Daniel stuck with them and kept low. It brought back memories of his time stalking the surface and hiding from the hawks that circled overhead. The voice grew louder the further they went before suddenly stopping. It was replaced by the subtle beat of a song. Raven ducked into a small indent in the wall and pressed himself against one side. It was just big enough to fit the four of them. Raven glared at a bandit standing further down the tunnel. His eyes were like that of an owl that has just spotted a mouse crawling out of a hole. Daniel could hear voices coming from behind a door underneath a lantern just ahead of the bandit. Raven attempted to make a move on the bandit, but Daniel grabbed onto his belt and stopped him. Raven looked back at Daniel. Daniel pointed in the direction of the door. It suddenly swung open and a man stepped out of the room. He walked up to the other bandit and handed him a box of cigarettes. The first bandit headed into the room. The other bandit began to walk toward the squad. Raven waited until the bandit wandered within reach before grabbing him and slicing open his neck with a knife. He dropped the body aside and continued to move through the tunnel. The other two soldiers followed close behind as Daniel lagged a bit further back and brought up the rear. Raven weaved through the cracks of shade that splintered between different lanterns and candles on their path. They dodged the few guards dotted about the tunnel and kept out of sight, keeping as quiet as mice. They crept through the tunnel and finally reached the train. Daniel hadn't seen anything like it before. The cars were like platforms connected by huge clamps. Crates and boxes made of wood and iron littered the cars. Daniel could see the vandalized box-car. The jagged remains of the metal previously used to cover it were all that remained.

The squad climbed the last car and hid behind a few crates. Daniel kneeled next to Raven. There were two bandits on the next car, both facing toward the front. Raven patted Daniel on the shoulder and pointed at the closer one. Daniel slowly slinked up behind the bandit and wrapped an arm around his neck. He choked the bandit while holding his hand over the man's mouth. The bandit struggled to breathe, short, pained gasps escaped, but his flailing gradually grew weaker. Raven zipped by without a sound. He prowled up behind the other bandit before firing a single shot from his suppressed machine gun into the bandit's head. Raven grabbed the bandit's fresh corpse and slowly lowered it to the floor without a sound. As the other soldiers passed by him, Daniel throttled the bandit until he had passed out and gently dropped him on the floor. Raven continued forward a short way into the light of a candle. A bandit standing on the box-car noticed him. He peered through the scope on his rifle and lined up a shot on Raven. The rifle shot sounded like an explosion ringing through the tunnel. It also acted as an alarm. Every bandit in the tunnel was now alerted. Daniel could hear their voices from darkness behind them. The bullet had passed right through Raven's abdomen and coated the crate next to him in blood. He stumbled and fell against the crate beside him.

Raven started shouting orders with a pained roar, "We're made! Go loud!"

The bandit looked behind him and started waving his arm at something. The other bandits in the tunnel started shouting and dashing toward the train. They fired their weapons at the crate that Daniel was hiding behind. Robins rushed to Raven and dragged him behind a box while Gene peppered the sharpshooter. The bandit fell off the box-car and onto the tracks.

"Cover the rear!" Raven yelled.

Daniel turned around and started firing at the bandits in the tunnel. They ducked behind crates, stairs, and wooden support beams in the tunnel. Daniel kept them from advancing on the train. With a sudden jerk, the train began to roll forward. The bandits had started it. Robins and Gene moved forward to get to the lead car. Another bandit jumped out from behind a crate and grabbed Robins. He had a knife in his hands and was prepared to use it. He and Robins struggled to stab one another with the knife. Gene hesitated to fire with his squad mate in the way. Whenever the bandit and Robins were separated long enough for Gene to line up a shot, the bandit would quickly spin around behind Robins. The bandit finally stabbed Robins twice in the chest. It sunk through his vest and into his heart on the first stab, then into his lung with the second. Robins fell over and tripped the bandit. He fell onto his back while Robins' corpse fell out of the way. Gene unloaded several rounds into the bandit, but the bandit had one more trick. At that same moment, he pointed the knife at Gene and pressed a button on the hilt of the blade. It sprung forward and dug itself into Gene's neck. Gene fell to his knees and grasped at the knife blade as the life quickly escaped his body before falling over to drown in his own blood. The train picked up speed. Daniel checked on Raven. His wound looked severe. He was holding his hand against it.

"Stop the train," Raven ordered weakly.

Daniel hurried toward the front of the train. He stepped over the bodies of his comrades and sprinted to the box-car. He skipped over the jagged edges of the vandalized box-car with graceful fluidity. He jumped and scrambled up the remaining box-car. He crawled along the top on his hands and knees. The concrete of the tunnel sped past him. He thought about standing up, but the only time he attempted to, his knees became weak. They wobbled like jelly before giving out and forcing Daniel back on all fours. He finally reached the other end of the car and dropped onto the lead car. There was no rear wall to the car. It had two walls on the sides and one long wall in front. Against the front wall was a long console covered in levers and buttons. A small door hung open, revealing a flame that rolled along the floor like an animal in a cage. Beside the door was a box filled with wood, paper, and coal, as well as the feet of one last bandit, who was conducting the train. He hadn't seemed to notice Daniel yet, so he used the opportunity to surprise the bandit and slammed his head against the control console. The bandit threw his elbow into Daniel's face and bashed it against his nose. Daniel reeled back and the bandit grabbed his collar. Daniel wedged one arm between both of the bandit's and pushed up on his chin. The bandit pulled Daniel around and shoved him against a wall of the car. The metal moaned and wobbled. Daniel kicked the bandit in the knee once. He placed his boot against the bandit's stomach and pushed him away. The bandits screeched and lunged at Daniel again. Daniel grabbed hold of the bandit and they both tumbled backward. When they stopped rolling, the bandit had Daniel pinned to the floor. The bandit struggled to get his hands around Daniel's neck. Daniel's upper body dangled just off the edge of the car. The menacing howl of the wind rushing by along the ground and the wheels rolling along the tracks grew louder with each passing moment. Daniel desperately flexed his abdomen and focused on keeping his body level. His mind raced as quickly as the tracks going by. His vision began to blur and morph into a shape like that of a tunnel. He felt as though he had lost control of his actions and that something else began to fill his arms and legs. The surge of fervor gave him a sudden burst of strength. Daniel grabbed the bandit's coat collar and pulled down. He smashed his head against the bandit's. While he was stunned Daniel, pushed him back. Daniel and the bandit both stood and glared at each other for a quick moment. The bandit suddenly lunged at Daniel again, but Daniel sidestepped his attacker. The bandit lost his footing and flipped over the rail. He tumbled onto the track and bounced. He continued to roll and hit the wall, as limp as a ragdoll, as the train left him to his fate. Daniel didn't dare to look.

Daniel hurried to the control console after regaining some semblance of his composure. He frantically searched the console for anything that would stop the train. He pressed buttons, he flipped every switch he could find, he pulled and pushed different handles, and he pulled on a chain that sounded the blow-horn. The blaring sound assaulted Daniel's ears and made him cringe. He finally grabbed a lever next to the console, squeezed the handle, and yanked it as hard as he could. The wheels squealed as they scraped against the metal tracks. Daniel was thrown forward. He clung to the console and kept himself from falling down until the train came to a complete stop. Still out of breath, Daniel jumped off the lead car. He stumbled down the tracks around the box-car. He felt exhausted as the adrenaline slowly drained from his body. He climbed back onto the train and walked back to where Raven was. When he reached the rear car, he discovered that Raven was gone. He had bled out and his body was leaning against the box Daniel had left him behind, clutching an empty Medikit container. The tiny syringes were littered around his legs. Daniel removed his helmet and mask and placed them on the ground beside him. He kneeled beside the corpse and placed his hand on Raven's shoulder. Raven's body slinked to the side and fell over.

"Go with God," Daniel whispered remorsefully.

Daniel heard someone speak behind him.

"Looks like you've been through a lot," they said.

Daniel immediately brandished his rifle and pointed it in the direction he heard the voice. Twisting around on his knee so suddenly sent a burning sensation shooting up his leg, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it. Before him stood a man, almost like a shade. His clothes were black as night. He held a pistol much like Daniel's in his hand. He wore a gasmask unlike any Daniel had seen before. It was similar to the masks most used in the subway, and yet it was so vastly different. Most people wore recovered Army gasmasks that have been used since before the war. The lens was similar to Daniel's, but it was split into two eyes that were tinted jet black and it had a hose that coiled around his neck to his back. Daniel would never have seen him if he weren't standing in the light of an overturned lantern.

"Go ahead," he said calmly, "Shoot me."

Daniel hesitated. He didn't respond, but kept his gun pointed at the man. The man lifted his arm and pointed his pistol at Daniel.

"If you don't kill me, I may just kill you."

Daniel replied, "If you had intended to kill me, you'd have done it by now."

The man didn't seem to move. He was as cold as the gun he held in his hand. Daniel felt a chill from just looking at him. With a deafening bang, the man's gun fired. The bullet passed right over Daniel's shoulder. He could almost see it zip by his head. The sudden noise startled Daniel. He heard what he thought was a bag of ammunition falling and an agonized scream come from behind him. Daniel didn't take his eyes off the ghostly figure in front of him.

"As cold as a rock, just like the stories say," the man said before lowering his weapon.

Daniel wasn't sure if the man was taunting him or praising him. The man picked up the lantern, walked past Daniel, and stood over a bandit that was squirming in pain toward one of the iron crates. Daniel kept the sights of his rifle glued to the man's silhouette while he passed. As he strolled by, Daniel caught a glimpse of a patch on his right shoulder. It looked to Daniel like a small, all-black Tabby.

"Would you like to know what this guy was reaching for?" the man asked Daniel.

Daniel lowered his rifle and stood up. He looked on the ground to see that the bandit he had knocked out was on the floor and grunting with pain. The man opened the crate. Inside were long assault rifles with black, wooden stocks piled on top of one another.

"He was going to kill you," the man stated, "So, why don't you kill him first?"

The man took a rifle from the box and dropped it on the ground in front of the bandit. The bandit crawled toward the rifle. Daniel raised his and pointed it at him. The bandit inched closer to the gun. Daniel couldn't pull the trigger. He clenched his teeth and furrowed his brow. He clutched the handguard of his rifle, causing it to tremble slightly. The bandit squirmed and struggled to reach the gun. Daniel continuously tried to pull the trigger, but his resolve continuously shattered, along with every bit of strength he built up. The bandit finally reached the rifle. Daniel hesitated. The bandit wrapped his hand around the stock of the gun. The man stomped on the bandit's arm, causing him to scream out in pain. His suffering was finally eased with a bullet through the top of his head.

"While your reluctance to take another man's life is admirable, it makes your own death inevitable," The man said coldly.

Daniel could not detect any kind of emotion in his voice, as if the disappointment or gratification that should have been in his tone had neglected to show.

"There's a particular saying that my friends and I live by," he continued, "'Kill to live.'"

The man crouched by the bandit's body and began to search him. Daniel lowered his rifle and let out a sigh of relief. The man began sifting through the bandit's coat and pulling ammunition and filters off of him.

"I don't believe in murder," Daniel told the man.

"Is it murder if you are defending yourself?" he asked in return, "Doesn't Jesus say he came to bring a sword or something?"

"That's not what he meant by that…"

"Whatever; it's irrelevant. 'An eye for an eye' is all you really need in this world now. If you can't protect yourself, you won't be able to protect anyone else."

Daniel looked down at Raven's corpse. Daniel assumed he was talking about the squad of soldiers. The man stood up and nudged the dead bandit with his foot.

"Do you know who these men are?" he asked Daniel.

Daniel asked in return, "Bandits?"

"Take a closer look," the man answered.

He strolled to the other corpses and began looting them. Daniel switched on his flashlight. He studied the body of the bandit. He was wearing fatigues much like the Army, but instead of blocks of different shades of gray, his uniform consisted of claw-like shreds of blue shades. On his arm, there was a patch of a flag with white, blue, and red striped stacked horizontally where the patch depicting an American flag should be. Daniel recognized it; it was another symbol of the old world. Daniel picked up the Russian rifle and examined it. He thought about keeping it. He pushed the thought aside after considering how rare ammunition for it was. Daniel placed it back into the crate.

"Battle-hardened super soldiers…" Daniel muttered to himself.

"They're called Spetsnaz, actually," the man said.

Daniel turned to look at him. The lantern coated the man's attire with an eerie glow.

"How could they be here?" Daniel asked, "Didn't Washington nuke them too?"

The man responded, "Who's to say Moscow didn't survive? We managed to, so it isn't completely unbelievable."

Daniel wasn't sure if he could believe that coming from such an apparitional man.

The man continued quizzically, "Do you know how long a submarine can stay underwater?"

Daniel was puzzled by the question at first. After thinking about it for a moment he had remembered an article he had read long ago, when the world was connected with electricity and machines. The man didn't let Daniel answer.

"As long as they have food," he said, "They can stay underwater for as long as their food supply lasts."

"You sure know a lot about the old world," Daniel said implicatively.

"It would seem I know about as much as you do."

His words were like needles scratching the back of Daniel's mind. Every word the man said bothered Daniel more and more.

"How did you get on the train?"

"I've been scouting it for about a week now."

"Bandits have only had the train a couple of days."

"I know. I watched them take it."

"You were watching the Army too?"

The man nodded once.

"Why?"

The man didn't respond. Daniel let out a heavy sigh. He decided pushing for further information would be a waste of time. He walked past the man and picked up his helmet. He shook and turned it until it and his mask were comfortably in place. He began to walk toward the front of the train.

"Going somewhere?" the man asked.

"To meet a contact," Daniel responded.

"Central North was overrun by a pack of Howlers a few hours ago."

Daniel stopped and let out another angry sigh. He turned around and walked briskly past the man toward the back of the train.

"Do you plan on shooting your way through a company of highly-trained soldiers?"

Daniel stopped again. The man's teasing had begun to pinch at his nerves.

Daniel turned and looked at the man and growled, "What else am I supposed to do?"

"You should be a bit more respectful to someone trying to help you."

"You're a real fuckin' peach, but if I needed your help, I'd ask for it."

"It seems to me like your options are pretty limited."

Daniel's patience had worn thin. He clenched his fists and failed to keep the volume of his voice under control.

"I don't see how your sass is going to help me get home."

"Would you like me to help you out?"

Daniel felt like the man was leading him somehow. Daniel decided to humor the man.

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Not far from here is an opened exit to the surface. My friends have a small camp in the B tunnel. You can easily get back to your home station from there."

Daniel began to feel as though the man's plan was too convenient.

"You're a Stalker, aren't you? I've heard the stories. 'A man led by some greater power braves the surface and always returns unharmed.' The surface shouldn't be a problem for you."

"Those stories are exaggerated."

"Really? So, what about Yankee Stadium? Was that actually a wholesome community with one small, innocent secret, then? And what about MedRite? I'm sure that 'Howler nest' was really just a few lost puppies, huh?"

Daniel's voice lowered and cocked his head forward while his hands rolled themselves back into fists.

"You've got a big fuckin' mouth…"

"And you have a big closet. How many skeletons do you think will fit before the bones start spilling out? Who will be the one to clean up the mess?"

Daniel felt like he was being toyed with again. He didn't say anything. Even if he had tried, the only thing he'd manage to muster would be snarling. The man turned on the flashlight on his helmet and set the lantern down the way it was when he first picked it up.

"We'd better get going," he said, "As enjoyable as your company may be; you aren't the only lost soul I have an interest in."

The man stepped off the train and started down the tunnel. Daniel didn't trust him, but he didn't like the odds of his only other option either.

"Out of the frying pan…" Daniel whispered to himself.

After one last look into the tunnel behind him, he decided to follow the specter to the surface.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Old City

As Daniel followed the man through the tunnel, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread. Something about this man made him feel uneasy and cold. Perhaps it was just his demeanor, but Daniel still couldn't help but feel tense.

"What should I call you?" Daniel asked the man, "Stalkers always at least learn their partners' names before hitting the surface."

The man simply answered without looking back, "John Doe."

Daniel felt as though the man was patronizing him again and let out a sigh.

"Alright then, 'John,' where exactly are we going?"

"We're taking a stroll down 96th."

"What about the hawks around Central Park?"

"Misinformation. Army's always had a terrible intelligence network."

Daniel knew he couldn't argue against that. As they headed through the tunnel, Daniel started to feel short of breath. John led Daniel to an empty station. There were signs that humans inhabited it at some point in time, but now it was empty and frigid.

"Filter," John said.

He pulled an air filter out of a pocket on his thigh and attached it to his mask. Daniel followed suit and twisted a fresh air filter into a slot on his mask. He immediately found it easier to breathe. He pressed a button on his wristwatch, causing it to beep once. It displayed a number that began to count down. Daniel wasn't sure how long their journey would take, but hoped twenty minutes would be enough time. He uttered a short prayer asking God to ensure their safety before continuing after John. John and Daniel climbed onto the boarding platform. Daniel noticed the body of a man leaning against a wall. From the characteristic coat made of Tabby fur, Daniel thought it looked more like a Stalker than a former resident. The mummified husk, wrapped in layers ice, clutched a gun much like Daniel's rifle. Daniel crouched by the corpse and scanned it. He grabbed hold of the coat and pulled. The ice crackled and snapped as he peeled the coat away from the body's chest. His vest was littered with magazines, filters, and painkillers. He plucked what he had room in his pockets for from the corpse before he catching up to John. John led Daniel up a flight of stairs and through a corridor. After vaulting over a frozen turnstile, Daniel could hear the wind blowing fiercely. The bitter cold cut through his clothing. The further down the hallway they walked, the louder the hum of the wind became. As they rounded a corner and ascended the final set of stairs, the light shone through the large doors. Daniel quickly shielded his eyes with his arm.

"Relax," John said, "It's dusk. Only thing you need to watch for is the beasts."

Daniel lowered his arm and continued climbing the stairs. The bright light would still be detrimental to any average subway dweller, but Daniel was accustomed to the light of the surface. They walked through what looked like a door frame. Daniel looked around the stairs into the station. The huge metal slab that was supposed to cover the stairs had been smashed and tossed aside. There were remnants of what looked to Daniel like walls. He could see chunks of concrete and glass hugging the ice beside the crumbling remains. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked around the street. He scanned the buildings that had collapsed ages ago. The hollow shells that were still standing loomed overhead. Decrepit automobiles sprawled along the street had been scorched by the bombs. Some were overturned. Icicles hung from the bumpers and mirrors of the cars and lined the streets. One semi-truck trailer blocked the way down 95th street. The truck had buried itself into a building. John walked around the station entrance and up the road. Daniel noticed a traffic light post on the ground. He could just barely make out the words on a street sign still attached that read _Broadway_ in dirty white letters. He looked up at the sky. The grey and black bricks of the buildings reached out to the white sky.

"It's a shame," John said disappointedly, "I really liked the grass…"

Daniel was surprised that John actually showed a bit of humanity.

"It'll be back in a week or so," Daniel said back, "The winter's almost through."

Daniel wasn't sure why he was trying to reassure the creepy man. John didn't respond. He stared at the icy road. Daniel thought he seemed disconnected from the world. Not even the wind seemed to touch him. It was like he was in another place. The screech of a hawk circling overhead caused Daniel's shoulders to jerk up as he became alert. His gaze darted back and forth. He quickly crept under the shadow of the building beside them. John didn't seem concerned in the slightest. He slowly looked up to meet the gaze of the enormous hunter perched on a flag-post that jutted out of a building roof. The beast just watched him. Daniel had seen one up close before, but had heard they have different variations in appearance. One story described a red hawk that nested atop the tallest building in the city. This hawk had dull grey and white feathers. It extended its wings and flapped them a few times before returning to a perched position. Each of its wings were at least the size of Daniel in length. Feathers fell from its wings and gently glided through the air. It had a large, compacted body. Its beak looked like a cat's claw. John began to walk along the road. The bird bobbed its head up and down in a very slow rhythm. John turned and slowly strolled toward the buildings. Daniel crept along the wall and followed John. He made sure to keep in the shade to avoid the monster's sight. As John moved further down the road, the beast's head followed along with quick jerks. Its eye looked like a gigantic black pearl. Daniel thought it looked a lot like the clock above Grand Station. John rounded the corner and walked onto the sidewalk. Daniel quickly followed behind him. The hawk vanished behind the buildings. Daniel felt relieved once it was out of sight.

"You're crazy," Daniel said to John quietly.

John continued down the street. He extended his arm and ran his fingers along the wall of the building beside him.

"They've always been flying rats," John said, "They'll always be flying rats."

The majority of the walk on 96th was uneventful. The world seemed to stand still. The wind that was previously blowing fiercely had all but died down completely. Daniel found the silence stifling, but not completely unwelcome. Normally there would be more monsters so close to Central Park. John sauntered along the sidewalk. He walked as if he were full of glee. He didn't seem to have a care in the world. Hundreds of monsters in the city would love to make a meal of him, but he didn't seem concerned at all. Just as that thought crossed Daniel's mind, a Tabby flew through the air and landed a short way ahead of John. It tumbled and fell onto its side. Daniel hugged the wall and kept low. John didn't seem to care and continued walking.

In a very raspy and forced whisper, Daniel called out to John, "What are you doing? Get down!"

John stopped and stared at the Tabby lying on the ground. A small group of Howlers also appeared and surrounded the Tabby. The Tabby stood up and growled at the Howlers. Its long, slender tail slowly twitched back and forth. Its fur was a yellow-orange color with stripes seemingly wrapped around its body. The stripes formed what looked like the letter "M" on its forehead. Its paws were the size of Daniel's head, and its claws looked like enormous hunting knives. The Howlers circled the Tabby. Each time one took a step too close, the Tabby would growl as it stepped backward away from the others. The Howlers looked a lot like the dogs Daniel would see for sale in Square, but they were larger and had what looked like talons on their three toes. One Howler lunged at the Tabby. It roared like a tiger before wrapping its front legs around the Howler and slashing its back. The Howler whimpered and flailed about. The Tabby jumped on it and sunk its teeth into the Howler's neck. The Howler stopped moving. John continued walking. He briskly walked past the struggle and ignored it entirely. One Howler noticed him and began to growl at him. John looked straight at the Howler. He took a revolver out of his coat and held it tightly in his hand. Another Howler began to growl at John. The first took a step forward before lunging toward John. John was like a flash of lightning. In the blink of an eye, he raised his pistol and shot the Howler in the head. The bullet ripped through its head and sent chunks of flesh and bone everywhere, painting the road red. John pointed the gun at the other and fired. The Howler dropped dead immediately. John pointed the gun at the Tabby. The Tabby growled at John. It slowly backed away toward the alley it had sprung from. John followed it with his pistol. The Tabby quickly jumped onto a car and scurried back into the alleyway before disappearing into the darkness. John shoved his weapon back under his coat and continued walking down the road. Daniel quickly followed behind him.

"You must have a death wish, making all that noise back there…" Daniel scolded.

"I used to think the same thing about you," John replied, "but now I'm not sure."

Daniel gave him a quizzical look of bewilderment.

"One minute you're willing to trudge knee-deep in Tabby shit to wipe out a hive," John explained further, "and the next you refuse to so much as slap someone trying to kill you. Then, you hide and try your damnedest to stay alive."

John chuckled under his breath.

"You're a mystery, Danny-boy…"

"I could say the same about you."

"Maybe you could."

John didn't carry on the conversation any further. He just continued walking. Daniel got the feeling that he was hiding something. The thought of it caused his stomach to churn with uncertainty. They finally reached the edge of Central Park. Daniel couldn't see much, but what he could see was a depressing heap of scorched tree bark. Decrepit trees stood like tooth-picks. The once lush grass was completely gone, replaced by ice and thin patches of snow. Even the dirt was seared black. John stomped on a large metal slab covering the subway station entrance. Nothing happened. He began to vigorously kick the metal door. Daniel heard the sound of metal scraping together, which made John take a step back. The door collapsed open. From the hole emerged an assault rifle and a man dressed similarly to John.

"Open the door faster next time," John ordered.

The man scanned John up and down. After a moment, he quickly lowered his weapon and took a step back.

"Oh, uh… sorry, sir," he stammered.

Daniel tried to look for anything that would indicate John's status, to no avail. John stepped into the hole and entered the subway. Daniel nodded at the guard before following after him.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Black Cats

Daniel was relieved to be back in the subway; his dark, musty hole of a home. As depressing as life in the subway tunnels could be, recalling life from before the war was even more so. The only feelings the image of the rotting old world invoked in him were sorrow and regret. John led Daniel down into the station and stopped when they reached a half-collapsed metal fence and a row of old turnstiles.

"Wait here," John said before he disappeared into the station.

Daniel sat against one of the turnstiles and waited. A few moments passed, then a few minutes. Daniel grew bored. He started watching the people he could see past the fence. Burly men shuffled by periodically. Some even noticed him, but all of them ignored him. A handful of others sat along the wall and talked. One man sat alone and shuffled through his equipment. Their attire varied greatly; some had coats made of Tabby skin, while others wore Army fatigues. Daniel even saw one man was dressed in a bulky radiation-resistant suit. One thing that each man had in common was the patch just below their left shoulder. From what Daniel could see, it was an image depicting a single black cat. A woman finally approached him, but Daniel didn't see John anywhere. She had eyes like an eagle and stood like an angry Tabby, but she was short. Daniel could clearly see her piercing glare, as her hair was tightly braided into thin rows. Her lips curved into a scowl and her brow wrinkled tightly together. Daniel noticed the patch of the cat was on her right shoulder. She had a shrill voice that scratched against Daniel's eardrums.

She asked angrily, "Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?"

She placed one hand on her hip and bent over the turnstile on the other. Daniel was slightly offended. He grew a little agitated himself, but refrained from saying anything rude.

"Well? I'm waiting."

Daniel looked at her and struggled to find something to say. He couldn't think of anything civil to say to her. The only words that ran through his head were insults and abrasive criticisms. She snapped her fingers in front of Daniel's face and started barking orders.

"Hey, wake up! You stupid or something? Come on, out with it!"

"Come now, Victoria," someone said from behind her, "That's no way to treat a guest."

Daniel looked over Victoria's head. A large, jolly-looking man smiled warmly at Daniel. The man reminded Daniel a lot of Ross. If not for his brown skin and long, slick black hair, Daniel may have mistaken the man for Ross.

"Welcome to our station, amigo!" the man bellowed happily. He extended an arm and held out his hand.

"Davíd Marín; and the ferocious little feline behind me is Victoria."

Daniel took off his helmet and shook the man's hand.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. 'Mah-reen.' Call me Daniel."

"Please, call me Dave," the man said with a smile, "I like to think it's easier to remember."

Daniel could feel Victoria's needle-like glare on him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Victoria," Daniel said cautiously.

She didn't respond.

"Don't mind her too much," Dave teased, "She's just shy around unfamiliar faces."

"You might be confusing 'bashful' with 'venomous…'"

Victoria stood up straight and scowled. Before she could react, Dave let out a loud laugh.

"I like this guy!" he said happily as he draped his arm over Daniel's shoulders, "Come with me, amigo! I'll get you a drink and you can tell me where you came from."

Dave led Daniel into the station. They walked down a flight of stairs to the boarding platform, passing by several people sitting by a fire. They huddled next to the flame and sipped from old metal mugs. One was strumming on a guitar. The somber melody and flickering flames of the fire and lantern painted the station with a dim, yellow-orange coat of gloom. Daniel looked back at Dave, who was grinning happily and patting the shoulders of every person they passed by with a laugh. Dave led Daniel into a dark room and Victoria closed the door behind them. Dave flipped on a lamp on his desk. The walls were covered with pipes and metal bars. On one side of the room, Daniel could see valves and pressure gauges. Dave reached underneath the desk and grabbed two canteens full of water. He tossed one to Daniel. Daniel opened it up and caught a whiff of the scent that oozed out. It was like copper and urine. Daniel twisted the cap back onto the bottle and placed it on the table. Dave gulped down a large swig from his bottle, then wiped his lips off with his sleeve. He sat behind his desk and relaxed in his chair.

"So, Danny; you mind if I call you Danny?" Dave chattered, "What brings you to our little campamento?"

Daniel felt something press up against the back of his head. He heard the familiar _click_ of the hammer of a pistol pulling back into the ready position.

"Don't even think of trying anything," Victoria hissed.

Daniel raised his arms level with his waist and held them to his sides.

"Easy, now," Daniel pleaded calmly, "I just wasn't thirsty. No need to get upset over it."

"You think you're a funny guy, huh? Let's see how funny you are with a bullet in your brain."

Daniel's senses became heightened and he grew alert. He tried to keep calm and reason with Victoria.

"I don't want any trouble. I just want to get back to my station."

"Victoria, please," Dave ordered, "Let me handle it."

Daniel kept quiet and listened. Victoria sounded angry. Daniel felt as though the hostility wasn't brought on by any actual resentment.

"This camp is supposed to be a secret!"

"And Veterans are supposed to be more level-headed."

"He's probably with the Army!"

"We don't know that. Let him speak first."

Victoria pushed the barrel of the gun harder against Daniel's head.

"You better not lie to us. Or else you're dead, you hear me?"

He wasn't sure if he should tell them about his job with the Army squad. His thoughts darted around in his mind. He had difficulty finding the words to say at first, but Daniel started to explain himself little by little. He reluctantly told them about the train and the squad. Victoria became even more enraged.

"So you are with Army!"

"I'm not with the Army," Daniel explained, "I'm a Stalker. I live in Grand Square. After those soldiers died, a man calling himself John brought me here."

Daniel quickly glanced at the patch on Dave's shoulder.

"He had a patch on his right shoulder like you do."

Dave, who had just been intently listening, asked, "What do you know about that?"

"I know it's a status thing. The door guard noticed it on John when I first got here. And I assume you two are important if you have you have an office like this."

Daniel could still feel the trembling barrel of the gun against his head.

"You don't actually believe this bullshit, do you?" she grunted angrily, "We're the only Vets around here!"

"Maybe," Dave answered, "But we're not the only Veteranos in the city."

After a quick pause and a heavy sigh, Dave stood up and walked to Victoria before placing his hand on her gun and slowly lowering it.

"Go find that guard and ask him who came through."

Victoria was flustered.

"But, I—"

"I told you I would handle it."

Victoria lowered her head, sucked her teeth, and stood for a moment before she holstered her weapon. Without saying another word, she shoved the door open and stormed out of the room. Dave let out another sigh.

"Sometimes I just don't know what to do with that woman."

Daniel didn't say anything. He was still on edge.

"Which station did you say you're from again?" Dave asked after gluing the grin back onto his face.

"Grand Square," Daniel answered cautiously.

Dave nodded his head and put a contemplative look on his face. He stroked his chin with his index finger and thumb.

"Well, I'm sure I'm gonna get yelled at for this, but I'll believe what you say."

Daniel felt a bit relieved, but didn't drop his defensive attitude.

"Does that mean you'll help me get home?"

"One of our carts will go missing. If it turns up in Grand Square, well, that'll be an unfortunate accident."

"I appreciate it."

"I never said it was a gift! Consider this a favor."

Daniel thought for a moment before nodding. It wouldn't be the first time he'd owed someone a favor, and it would be insignificant considering what he had uncovered.

"If your people come to my station, make sure they call on the Prophet. I'd rather not get my station mixed up in anything, especially since you seem to be at odds with the Army."

"I'll keep that in mind, amigo."

Dave chuckled before opening up the door. He led Daniel back through the station. They stopped next to a railcart under a large plank of wood spattered blue. There was a man in the cart sifting through bags.

Dave pointed at him and ordered, "You there. I need your cart."

The man looked at Dave. After a moment, the man started tossing the bags onto the platform. After all the bags were removed, he hopped off the cart and continued looking through them.

"Hey, amigo," Dave said, "This is just a friendly suggestion, but how about you forget everything you saw here, eh?"

Daniel stepped onto the cart and sat in the seat next to the engine. He looked up at Dave and narrowed his eyes. He pursed his lips and scratched his cheek.

"Who are you?" he asked nonchalantly.

Dave laughed, "Adios. Have a safe trip, Stranger."

Daniel started the engine. Dave waved at Daniel as the cart rolled into the darkness of the tunnel.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Condemnation

Daniel saw the lights and heard the sounds of his home. As the giant metal gate swung closed behind him, Daniel finally let himself relax. He was glad to be home, even if it was in the Army's side of 42nd station. Two Army soldiers stood on the boarding platform. One held out his arm, signaling for Daniel to stop the cart. Daniel pulled the brake lever. The rubber of the brakes had worn, causing the metal to scrape against the wheels of the cart. The wheels let out a steady, high-pitched ring as the cart came to a complete stop next to the soldiers.

"What's your name?" a soldier asked him, "You here for trade?"

As Daniel stepped off the cart and tromped into the station, he replied to the soldier, "Tell Major Diaz the Prophet needs to see him in Ross' office. It's important."

The soldier saluted and hustled to find his superior. Daniel looked back over his shoulder.

"Well, at least the title's good for something…" he whispered to himself.

Daniel walked through the long hallway to Square station. He passed by several Army soldiers going about their daily business. Some were in uniform, some weren't wearing their coats, and others wore civilian clothing. They sat at tables and talked. A few played a game with cards and smoked. Daniel assumed it was poker. One pair of soldiers practiced disarming and grappling techniques in the glinting light of a lantern. Daniel came to a guard post. A Peacemaker stood by the gap in a line of metal fencing. He seemed to recognize Daniel's attire.

"Come on through, Stalker," he said as he waved Daniel through the checkpoint.

The Peacemaker looked to Daniel like the riot control officers that swept through the stations after the war. They wore vests that looked like Daniel's but were made of thick plastic and lined with thin bricks of tightly-packed dry foam. Their helmets were made of the same kind of dense plastic and had a clear visor that could be pulled down to cover and protect their faces. Their arms and knees were covered with the same protective armor. Their boots climbed all the way up their thighs. They were covered with protective metal or plastic plates and heavy foam. The assortment of armor was clamped around their legs with strips of nylon that coiled around their legs like a snake. Often referred to as "Hunter's little brother," the Peacemakers were the law in Grand Square. Daniel hurried to Ross' office. There was a guard standing next to the door. Daniel breezed past him and reached for the door handle. The guard tried to stop him by reaching for his arm and calling out, but was too late. Daniel pushed the door open. Inside the room was a woman wearing only a garter-belt, stockings, and high-heel shoes standing on a chair with one leg on Ross' desk. Daniel could see Ross' face in the space between her legs. Ross looked back through at Daniel.

"Danny!" Ross called out excitedly, "You're back!"

He stood up walked around his desk. Daniel walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He looked at the woman who had stepped off the chair and had covered her chest with her arms.

"I need to talk to you," Daniel said to Ross.

Ross motioned toward the door and said to the woman, "Get lost, Baby."

She whined back, "But you said you were gonna drill me today!"

"Later! I gotta work," Ross whined sarcastically in return.

The woman sucked her teeth and put a long coat on. She stormed out of the room, still pouting. As the door creaked closed, Ross walked to his liquor cabinet.

"You want a drink, pal?" Ross asked.

Daniel shook his head. Ross pulled a glass and bottle of alcohol from his shelf and sat at his desk.

"So, how'd it go, Danny-boy?"

"We've got a real problem."

The smile on Ross' face quickly drained into a concerned scowl after looking at Daniel's face. The door of the office suddenly swung open. Diaz walked into the office and seemed to immediately feel the disheartening mood.

"Judging from the look on your face," Diaz said, "I guess you have bad news for me."

"I was just talking to Ross about it."

"So, what happened? Where is the rest of the squad?"

"They're dead. Raven and the two boys."

"What happened?"

"We were spotted. When we tried to defend ourselves, Raven got hit and—"

"Yes, that's very tragic. Was it the Fed's that did it?"

Daniel wasn't surprised at the lack of remorse Diaz showed. He could hear Ross' foot tapping on the concrete. He glanced at Ross, who had laced his fingers together and leaned on his desk, covering his mouth. He was glaring at Diaz.

"It's wasn't the Government," Daniel continued, "They were Russian."

"Russian? You're sure?"

"I saw the flags myself."

"Did you dispose of them?"

"I barely got away alive. They started the train and I had to stop it. I left it by 96th."

Diaz nodded and seemed to lose himself in thought for a moment before looking back up at Daniel and carrying on.

"How did you get back?"

"I found a cart by a group of dead traders on the ACE line."

"Why did you go to the ACE line?"

"To avoid instigating another Cold War."

Diaz wasn't amused.

"That's well enough I suppose."

Diaz turned toward the door.

Ross stood up from his desk and said, almost shouting, "We held up our end of the deal."

Diaz didn't turn around, but had stopped short. "And we'll fulfill ours. The prisoner will be placed into the custody of your Peacemakers."

Diaz left the room, leaving Ross and Daniel alone. Ross sat back down in his chair. Daniel could tell he was angry.

"'Tragic,' huh?" Daniel whispered to himself.

"That shit really gets to me, man," Ross complained, "They don't give a shit about their own damn people!"

Daniel let Ross seethe. He knew to stay away from the receiving end of Ross' anger. Ross finished his drink and tried to calm himself down.

"I guess getting pissy about it, won't help anything, will it?"

Ross plugged the bottle closed and stood up. He set it back into its place on his liquor shelf.

"So, Danny-boy, how about you come with me? Let's see if we can't get somethin' outta that Fed."

"We're not just going to look for that prostitute, are we?"

"Come on, Danny, do I really look like that kind of guy?"

Daniel looked away and shrugged his shoulders implicatively. They shared a laugh as Ross opened the door and they both stepped out of the office. They walked through the station, following signs stained with a large number 7 inside a pink square. As they walked, Ross told Daniel about his next job.

"Sorry to dump this on you when you just got back, Danny, but I need you for something else pretty soon."

"What is it?"

"I'll let you know more when things are set and solid, but I need you to train a kid to be a Stalker."

"Why me and not someone else?"

"Until I know for sure, I can't give you an answer to that."

"You know I'll do whatever you need me to."

"I can always count on you, Danny."

They walked down a set of stairs onto a boarding platform. Small alcoves and train cars had been repurposed into jail cells. The metal fencing and iron slabs normally found near or blocking station entrances were used to keep criminals locked up. The cells were relatively empty. One prisoner sat in his cell looking bored. Another was asleep. A handful of guards sat in chairs or patrolled the platform, going from cell to cell and checking on the prisoners. One guard stood atop a tall wooden structure and watched over the entire platform from above. Normally, the only crimes committed in Grand Square were limited to petty thievery and assault, with the occasional belligerent drunkard sleeping off his buzz. There had only ever been one murder since Ross took over leadership. Daniel remembered it was something over a cheating husband and a cigarette butt. He recalled hearing the lipstick mark that was on the cigarette belonged to the murderer. Daniel and Ross reached the interrogation room. It had been a bathroom in the past. The stalls were torn down to be used as doors and walls for other homes or stores. Daniel could see the shattered toilets and sinks. A man sat in a wobbly chair with his hands tied to the back as a guard stood against the wall threateningly. The prisoner was hunched over and appeared to be sleeping. Ross stooped next to the man and shook him to wake him up.

"Wake up," Ross ordered, "I need to talk to you."

The man slowly lifted his head and looked at Ross. His stare was blank, his jaw hung open, and drool dripped from his bottom lip.

"This is the guy?" Daniel quietly asked, more to himself than someone else.

Ross seemed to hear him and answered, "Apparently, but I don't see how this guy sat through their torture without a word."

It was as if the man was sleeping with his eyes half-open. He just stared at Ross with eyes like those of a dead fish. Ross barked questions at the man. He asked why he wanted to attack Grand Square and why he tried to sabotage the generators. The man just stared at Ross, unblinking and unresponsive.

"You think radiation melted his brain or something?" Ross asked.

Daniel wasn't convinced that was the case.

"I'm pretty sure radiation poisoning wouldn't do something like that."

"Some kind of new weapon?"

"Maybe he just got shot in the head."

The man slowly turned his head to look at Daniel. His face seemed to pull itself back as a look of both terror and joy brought life back into his eyes. He started screaming violently. Ross stood up and quickly took a step back. The startled Peacemaker in the corner pulled his weapon in front of him and pointed it at the man. Ross held his arm out to signal the Peacemaker not to shoot. The man screeched like a banshee. He lurched upward onto his feet, bringing the backrest of the chair his arms were bound to with him. He slowly shuffled toward Daniel in small steps. His feet scraped the ground and made an eerie noise as he drew closer. It was as if a corpse had sprung to life and started walking. The man's screams suddenly turned to sobs. He fell to his knees and tried to speak, but all that came out of his mouth was a sinister, pained wailing sound. His sobbing stopped abruptly and he started to speak.

"I was there, in the wound of the fifty-ninth finger of the city," he said.

He was a young man, but his eyes and mouth looked withered, as if they had aged fifty years ahead of his body. His tone and volume alternated from sentence to sentence. He danced sloppily between angry, terrified, and jubilant with his words. He jumped between screaming, whispering, and everything in between without warning.

"We kept the worms from getting in! The veins… Protected…"

He looked up, straight into Daniel's eyes.

"The Shadow Man came. We feared him! We shot him! We couldn't… he wouldn't stop!"

He looked down, his eyes darted back and forth as he lost himself in his memory for a moment.

"He took them all, but not me. He showed me! The light… The Ball!"

His gaze darted around the ceiling where it met with the walls.

"The light in the veins! It hears the light!"

He stared straight into the lightbulb of the lamp overhead.

"The light had to die or it would come. It follows the rats when they move. It touches the ones that move until they don't move!"

He screamed as loud as he could.

"_They don't move_!"

His tone switched back and forth erratically as it had before. He looked down, back into Daniel's face.

"He showed me you… He touched my face like he touched yours."

Tears streamed down his face and his mouth hung open. His voice squeaked out between strained gasps for air. Daniel could see pangs of tragedy scratching at the back of the man's eyes.

"Stop the light…"

He repeated himself over and over through his sobs, just saying those three words. Still repeating himself, he fell forward. His body stretched across the floor. He continued repeating himself quietly while writhing on the floor strenuously. It seemed his fit had come to an end, but Daniel was still in a state of shock. He could hear Ross talking, but didn't really hear what he said. He couldn't stop thinking about what the insane man had said. His words seemed to echo throughout the room and they banged through his head. The Peacemaker picked the man up off the ground and led him out of the room. He seemed to have trouble getting the man to walk and had to half-drag him out. Daniel watched the man and the guard leave the room. He heard Ross saying something again. His senses slowly came back to him.

"Danny!" Ross called out loudly.

Daniel snapped out of his stupor. Ross had placed his hands on Daniel's shoulders and was looking at his face. His normal gleeful grin was hidden behind a mask of concern.

"You alright buddy? I thought I lost ya."

"Yeah, I'm alright; just a little shaken up."

Daniel took a step away from Ross and stood against the wall.

"That was some pretty heavy stuff, huh? Did you understand a word of it, Danny?"

"No, most of it was nonsense, but that thing he said about a 'Shadow Man' makes me think…"

"You think you got something?"

"I remember thinking the same thing when I saw the angel in Union. 'Shadow Man' was the only thing I could think to call him until I realized what was going on."

"You think it was that angel of yours that did that to him?"

"Not the same one. The one that saved me died that day."

"So why aren't you crazy?"

"I'm not sure…"

"What do you think he meant by 'the wound in the fifty-ninth finger?'"

Daniel thought for a moment. He could only think of an open cut or a broken bone. He suddenly remembered something Ross had said in the past about a massive tunnel collapse.

"Which station did you say caved in a few years ago?"

"Opera House, why?"

"The one on Lexington and 59th, right?"

"You think that's what he meant?"

"It's gotta be."

Ross thought for a moment.

"That's too damn close… I'll send someone over there. If your angels or whatever are driving people nuts and trying to kill us, I'm having my men shoot them."

"He always forgives our sins, my friend."

Ross chuckled aloud. Daniel was glad to see his friend's usual smile.

"Yeah, you tell me that every chance you get. Go get some sleep. I'll call you when I find out what's going on over there."

Daniel nodded. He felt the fatigue wash over him like a wave. He rubbed his eyes with his palms and headed out the door. He stopped and watched the Peacemaker place the madman in his cage.

He was still repeating to himself, "Stop the light…"

He wore the dull, lifeless expression he had when Daniel first saw him. Daniel walked home. He didn't bother taking the inter-station transport. He'd just fall asleep in the seat. As he passed through the mess hall, he thought about getting something to eat. He decided on a roll from the bakery. The baker's welcoming smile was as warm as the bread he made. Daniel walked to his home before eating the bun. He dropped his bag and helmet beside his desk. He didn't bother stopping his helmet when it slowly rolled in a semi-circle near his foot. He sat at his desk and took a bite of his food. It was good bread, but it was missing something. Daniel thought of the biscuits his mother would occasionally make for breakfast in the mornings before his family went to church. He remembered sitting at the small table next to the counter in his house's kitchen. There was just enough room for the four people in his family. He remembered his father poking his meal with a fork and stuffing fried eggs into his mouth. He remembered the muffled compliments he'd mumble to Daniel's mother and the terrible joke he'd always make.

"You like seafood?" he'd say before opening his mouth, revealing the chewed up mush.

He remembered his sister's smile; the way she'd laugh at her father's favorite joke every time. He recalled the argument that would break out when his father would steal something from the young girl's plate and gobble it down happily. His reminiscence trickled back to where it began when he recalled his mother breaking up the fight by setting a plate of biscuits on the table. Her warm smile was always there to comfort Daniel if he ever felt unhappy or anxious. He thought of something that had disappeared since the bombs fell.

"Needs butter…" Daniel complained to himself, his mouth still full of bread.

He listened to the chattering noise of people passing by. The echo of their footsteps on the concrete was nearly drowned out by the conversations of friends and families in their homes or the makeshift alleyways. Daniel enjoyed his plain meal alone in the dim white glow of the lamp on his desk.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: King

Daniel strolled through the common area toward Ross' office. He always enjoyed the vibrant atmosphere. Typically he'd be sifting through the murky and bleak world of the surface, so the lively faces and noise that didn't indicate impending doom were a nice change of pace for him. He walked through the armory. Peacemakers passed by him. He watched a couple of Stalkers check their equipment together. Daniel deduced that they were setting up to leave for a job soon. Their gasmasks and helmets were stuck together exactly like Daniel's were. They wore vests much like the plated armor the Peacemakers wore. They strapped belts with magazines of dirty bullets around their waists. The leather of the belt tightly gripped the magazines to keep them from moving or making noise. At a glance, the only difference in appearance between them and Daniel were their coats. The defining characteristic of a Square Stalker was the coat they wore. They wore coats made from the dull grey-brown skin of Howlers. The hide of the beast was known to provide substantial protection from the cold and radiation of the surface, as well as the rain of the warmer season. Stalkers knew this protection was essential, considering the amount of time they spent on the surface during their treks above the subway. Some wealthy subway-dwellers wore them as well. Experts could skin the beasts without damaging the coat, making for a soft and comfortable symbol of their skill. Daniel's thoughts circled around as he walked. He thought of the tabbies and how valuable their skins were. The fearsome monsters could rip a man to pieces in mere seconds. Even Hunters were weary of confronting a Tabby alone. Many Hunters kept the heads of their kills as trophies to show their skill and boast to rookies. Daniel reached Ross' office. He reached for the door handle and placed his hand on the doorknob. Before twisting it to open the door, he stopped short. He knocked on the door and listened closely.

"It's open," he heard Ross call from behind the door.

Daniel twisted the doorknob and walked into the office. Ross looked up from a notebook he was scribbling in.

"It ain't like you to knock, Danny-boy," Ross teased.

"After last time, I feel like I should make it a habit," Daniel teased in return.

"You can't deny that she had a nice rack."

"I guess I don't have the same sense for women that you do."

"Oh, I forgot; you're an ass man, aren't you?"

Ross laughed aloud. Someone knocked on the door.

"More work?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah, looks like it."

"Should I go?"

"Nah, sit down 'n' give me a minute; I wanted to hang out today."

Ross closed the notebook and leaned back in his chair. Daniel moved to the wall and leaned against it. He tried to make himself as small as possible to stay out of the way. Two more knocks echoed through the door.

"It's open," Ross called out toward the door.

The door swung open. A Peacemaker stepped into the office and closed the door behind him.

"What do you need?" Ross asked.

"You said you needed me?" the Peacemaker said before lifting the helmet from his head.

Daniel thought he sounded young. He studied the man closely.

"Oh, yeah! I need your badge since you ain't a Peacemaker anymore."

The guard pulled a piece of metal from his chest and placed it on Ross' desk. It was a small shield, similar in color to a military-grade bullet.

"I'll have someone grab you later on, so take it easy until then."

The Peacemaker nodded. He turned around walked out of the office. The door creaked closed, leaving the room in a moment of silence.

"I'm guessing that's the kid you mentioned before?" Daniel asked.

"That's him," Ross answered, "I need you to make him as good as you."

"Why me? There are plenty of better Stalkers out there."

"Who better to train my left hand than my right?"

"Oh, that's what it is, huh?"

"I can trust you with anything, man, but I know that you can't do everything."

He stood up and walked to Daniel. He placed his hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"So, if I have two of you, maybe I can keep you around a little longer."

Daniel could tell Ross was worried about him. The smirk on his face failed to hide that fact.

"So, why him? Couldn't you find someone with experience?"

"Probably, but he looks up to you."

Ross strolled to his desk and picked up the badge. He inspected it closely. He seemed to be recalling an old memory.

"And I guess he reminds me a little of you, Danny-boy. Someone who follows exactly what I say can't do what you do."

"Does he cause a lot of trouble?"

Ross raised his voice. He didn't sound angry; he sounded rather amused.

"All the fuckin' time! Every day, I get complaints that he breaks things and flirts with anything that doesn't have a pair of balls!"

Ross put the badge back on his desk.

"But he always gets the job done and he does it well. That's what I need."

Ross slapped Daniel's arm and smiled.

"Enough about work, though! That duo you like's playing at the Oyster Bar today. They said they had a song they made for me, so I figured we'd go check it out."

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall and stood up straight. He and Ross walked out of the office and through the station. Ross continuously stopped to chatter with anyone who greeted him. It was troubling for Daniel because everyone they passed by that wasn't asleep did exactly that. It made Daniel think of how Ross led the station. He was a fair leader. There hadn't been a single famine since he started giving orders. Sparse food and water supplies plagued the other stations quite often. Usually they'd be pilfered, but Daniel would occasionally hear whispers of a poor decision leading to a great loss. Ross was a kind leader. He met every problem with a smile and a hearty laugh. He cared deeply for each resident of Grand Square. Whenever anyone met with tragedy, such as the grieving family of a Stalker or injured travelers, he would always go out of his way to assist them. Even bandits respected him enough to avoid causing trouble for Grand Square. Daniel thought that could also be the result of the training the Peacemakers go through. Several men that trained soldiers before the war were happy to lend a hand to keep the station safe and secure. Daniel recalled the day he was reunited with his old friend. He had been wandering between stations alone. He'd pick fights with anyone and everything. One man he got into an argument with turned out to be too much for him to handle. With one swift uppercut, the man knocked Daniel flat onto his back. Afterward, the man held out a hand to help Daniel to his feet. Daniel remembered the reassuring smile he offered.

"Your hook's still as shitty as ever, Danny," he remembered the man saying with a chuckle.

Daniel's thoughts wandered until he got stuck on Ross' lecherous nature. He would always grab at waitresses or strippers and he never failed to sniff out a woman willing to take care of him in any station he visited.

"Is it always this crowded here?" Ross asked.

Daniel looked past Ross at the massive blob of people in the mess hall. He hadn't realized they had reached Grand station. Everyone in the room was packed together tightly. Groups of people formed small piles and chatted. Some stood on chairs and benches and called out to one another. A man waved at Daniel and Ross. He was standing by a pair of empty chairs at the front of the mob. Daniel followed Ross to the man. The man asked them to take their seats so he could begin the performance. Daniel sat in the creaky wooden chair while Ross greeted the man. They laughed together for a moment before they parted and Ross sat next to Daniel.

"You really like these guys that much, Danny-boy?" Ross asked as he relaxed in his seat.

Daniel nodded. He let his legs extend in front of him and draped one over the other. He tapped his feet together. He always liked the sound his boots would make when he did so. The man Ross was talking to finally took his place at the head of the crowd and turned to it. Another man holding a guitar dragged a chair along with him and sat next to the first man. The guitar was well-maintained. It reflected the light from the lights overhead and created a dazzling flash when he moved it.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the first man announced boisterously.

The aimless rambling of the crowd died down as everyone listened to the man speak.

"The moment you've all been so patiently waiting for has finally arrived!

He turned around and picked up a small case. After opening it, his instrument was revealed. It was a priceless artifact from the old world: a violin. Daniel had seen the man play it plenty of times in the past, but he had never seen another of its kind anywhere in the subway tunnels. It looked almost pristine; its body glowed in the light of the station with a deep brown color and the silver strings shone vibrantly. Each part of it looked as though it had been polished to a mirror-finish. Daniel always found the sight of the unique marvel to be a breath-taking experience.

"Fifteen years ago, I wandered the tunnels of the subway that sheltered us from the horrors above," the man continued, "I was lost, I was hungry, and I was poor. I scraped what meager living I could together by plucking away at a string tied to a broomstick and begging for food scraps."

The man gestured to Ross.

"Then I was found by this man: the head of this lovely station! I wandered into the Grand Square and was immediately welcomed with open arms, a warm meal…"

He lowered his voice and continued with a sarcastic gesture.

"…and a load of shit to shovel."

Daniel heard a few chuckles behind him. Even Ross was amused. The man continued with his emphatic speech.

"One day, while I was moving boxes in the depot, I opened one to find this…" He held the violin out in front of him. He hung it in his hand, the vibrant light still beaming proudly off its body.

"Since that day, I have been traveling to each station, wherever the sound – no, the _joy_ of music is needed to warm the hearts of others, as mine was all those years ago."

He held the violin to his chest, resting both hands on the neck.

"If this wonderful man had not taken me in and told me to move those crates that day, I would never have found this treasure. I would never have found my reason to live."

He turned and picked the bow of the instrument out of the case.

"To show my gratitude, I would like to play a song with the help of my friend here. We wish to show our gratitude to our great leader – our 'Rex Benignus.'"

The man placed the violin under his chin and prepared himself while the crowd applauded. As the audience's ovation finally died down, the man began to play. He stroked the strings of his violin with the bow. It sung a solemn tune. The hum of the long notes cried out. Daniel felt a chill tickle his spine as he closed his eyes and let the song invade his thoughts. The guitarist joined in. Each steady pluck of the strings rang out with a somber, gentle melody. The song made Daniel think of a man in a perilous situation. He thought of his excursions to the surface. He thought of the time he spent walking through holes in buildings, sifting through brick and dust only to find empty boxes in empty grocery stores. He remembered finding a recipe for pizza in an old diner. He remembered the excited gleam in his partner's eye.

"We're gonna be rich!" he remembered the excited man cry out as he tightly grasped the long-lost treasure.

He remembered the puddle of crimson fluid that escaped the man's body. He remembered desperately trying to stop the blood by tearing his shirt to pieces and wrapping the rags around the stub that used to be the man's knee. He remembered dragging the man toward the subway entrance. He remembered the blinking warning on his watch, reminding him of the two minutes he had left before his last filter would finally be unable to protect him from the toxic air that would seep through his mask. He remembered the ominous howls of the creatures that followed the scent of the blood.

He remembered what his friend had said to him as he lay against a wall before pushing Daniel away; the words shivering past his lips, he told Daniel, "Save a slice for me."

He remembered hearing the thunderous sound of a pistol as he sprinted away, before descending into the safety of the subway. As the song went on, Daniel felt as though the instruments sang out a more relaxing tune. It was a subtle change, but Daniel definitely noticed it. It made him feel uplifted. He couldn't recall the last time he felt anything like it. The hopeful tone was a wonderful contrast to the disparity Daniel felt from the first half. Daniel could hear Ross arguing with someone next to him. Their angry whispers disturbed Daniel's enjoyment of the performance. He grew a little agitated. He wanted to say something, but Ross finally told the man to leave.

"Well, you tell your good-for-nothing colonel that I'll fucking do it," Ross said with a hushed shout, "Mother-fucker can't even take care of one God-damned job! Piece of shit…"

Daniel looked at him. He was gripping the collar of a soldier in his fist. He pushed the man away and turned back to the performers. Daniel could see that he was furious about something.

Daniel leaned over to him and whispered, "What's up?"

Ross – still angry and trying to calm himself down – complained, "The Army's starting to piss me the fuck off, man."

Ross crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. The song still swirled around them, drowning out their quiet conversation.

"You know those crazy fucks from Jersey, right?"

"Those anarchists that rape and kill anything that moves?"

"Those are the guys. They took over Penn Station and the Army can't seem to figure out how to get their heads out of their asses long enough to get it back."

Daniel was surprised, enough to raise his voice.

"They took it over?"

Ross placed his hand over Daniel's mouth.

"Keep it down! If anyone hears this, people are gonna freak out. Living with those maniacs so close is fuckin' scary."

Daniel recollected himself.

"Why can't the Army take it back?"

"Because that fuck-head, Caul, is a moron. I'll need to get a whole team of Hunters to go in there…"

"Do you want me to check it out for you?"

"Slow down, there, buddy! I think this is a little too big for you to handle alone."

"I won't try to fight them, just check it out."

"Seriously, Danny – you know how bad those guys are. Going in there alone would be suicide."

"Since when has that stopped me?"

"Since things started getting fucked around here. Now is not the time to get yourself killed! I need you around."

"I can handle a few savage, psychotic murderers. I won't pick a fight with a whole station. If things get too rough, I'll get out."

The musical crescendo echoed through the halls of the mess hall as the performance came to a close. The violinist bowed. The audience roared with applause and cheers. Ross and Daniel joined the crowd and clapped their hands together.

"Fine, you can go," Ross said reluctantly, "but, if you die, I'll kick your scrawny, little ass."

He turned to Daniel and smirked coyly. Daniel stopped clapping and stood up. He slapped Ross' shoulder as he pierced through the crowd. The musician began another song. It was an upbeat and lively tune. People in the crowd bounced around and danced gleefully. Some pushed forward, toward the music. Daniel just strolled past them. Most people were eager to let him by so they could move that extra inch closer. Daniel walked to his home in order to gather his equipment and prepare to leave.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Anarchy

Daniel slowly crawled through the darkness of the tunnel toward his destination. He felt a strange kind of pressure constricting his body. He scanned the tunnel with his flashlight, but didn't see the silhouettes of any ghosts. As he moved further into the tunnel, he started to feel nauseous. He saw the faint glimmer of the light of the station. He doused his lamp and cautiously inched further. When he finally reached the station, he was greeted by a horrendous sight that caused his stomach to churn. Corpses were piled on top of one another, blood covered the walls and floor, and bodies were hung from the lights that loomed overhead by strands of rope. Daniel felt like he was going to vomit, but choked back his sickness.

"Can't afford another mask…" Daniel whispered to himself after catching his breath.

He drew his rifle and slowly advanced deeper into the station. He climbed onto the boarding platform and scurried into the shadow of a column. He carefully sidled against the walls and peeked around every corner before continuing down corridors. He checked every room and crevice, only to be met with more twisted remains. He heard a noise come from deeper within the station. It sounded to Daniel like someone scraping a broom against the floor. Daniel followed the sound. As he progressed further toward it, the strange sound grew louder. He peeked around a corner and was met with a man scraping his hands across the ground. The man didn't seem to notice him. Daniel thought it best not to disturb the man and simply observed him. The man collected the dirt on the floor into small piles. He then lifted the dirt in his hands off the ground and dumped the piles onto another larger mound of dirt, as if dropping it into a container. Daniel watched the man for a few moments. He was muttering to himself and shaking. Daniel couldn't hear what he was saying. Daniel noticed something in the corner of his eye. A strange, grey figure was moving toward the man. Daniel didn't dare to move. He stood completely still, praying in his head that whatever the creature was hadn't seen him. The man continued to collect dirt, completely unaware of the figure looming over him. It just hovered over the man and stared at him. Daniel couldn't see it very clearly. He wondered if it were a Tabby. He didn't think it looked like it, but didn't want to risk moving his head and catching the attention of whatever it was or the stranger. The man seemed to finish his task. He stood up and mimed picking up his invisible container. After realizing the dirt had stayed on the ground, the man threw a fit. He thrashed about and seemed to have slammed the transparent bucket onto the ground. He kicked the pile of dirt he had made and yelled angrily. He shouted more unintelligible gibberish and stormed off deeper into the station. After he was sure the man was gone, Daniel quickly pointed his rifle at the grey blob. Just as soon as he turned to look, it was gone. It was as if the creature had just vanished. Daniel was certain he had seen something. He turned the corner where the monster had come from, but was greeted by a concrete wall. There were no doors, vents, or exits of any kind to be seen.

"What the fuck…?" Daniel said to himself.

He was sure his mind wasn't just playing tricks on him. Daniel turned around and looked where the man had gone. Several of the same monsters slowly drifted through the station. Each time Daniel tried to look directly at them, they would disappear. He couldn't see exactly what they were. They didn't seem to have any kind of definitive shape or size. His inability to keep the creatures in sight caused him to become anxious. He quickly moved through the station and followed after the man. After turning one more corner, Daniel found the man again. He was sitting at a small table underneath a bright fluorescent light. There was an empty chair nearby and a revolver on the table. Daniel pointed his gun at the man. He was ready to fire if the man tried to pick up the gun.

"You can see them too, right?" the man asked in a quiet, desperate voice, "You can hear them, right?"

Daniel slowly moved closer, weapon still primed.

"I'm not crazy. They told me I was, but I was the only one who saw what they were doing!"

Daniel was sure he meant the strange figures polluting the station, but he wasn't sure what the man had heard. The figures surrounded the two of them. They watched Daniel and the man, while floating around the room.

"They want us to play," the man said softly, "They made everyone play."

He picked up the gun and released the cylinder, revealing that it was not loaded. The man slid a single bullet in before spinning it and whipping it back in place.

"Some people cheated, but I won't cheat. I'm a good man."

He placed the barrel against his head and pulled the trigger. The hammer slammed against the back of the gun with a gentle _click_. He placed the gun on the table and slid it across. He then gestured for Daniel to take a seat. Daniel hesitated. He couldn't think straight. The unexplainable pressure and nausea clouded his judgment. He thought he should just shoot the insane man and leave as quickly as possible. He thought of turning around and running away. Before he knew it, though, he had taken a seat in the chair and picked up the revolver. He placed the barrel against the side of his head. The barrel of the gun trembled against his temple. Thoughts and doubts raced through his mind. He thought of the times he wished he could end it all. He wished he could see his sister again. He thought of suicide as a sin. He remembered what Ross had said before he left. He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth together. His breathing grew sporadic and heavy. Something tickled its way up his spine and crept into his mind, before eating his thoughts like a gluttonous monster. He hadn't felt anything like it in years. He tried to put the gun down, but his body wouldn't move. His head swirled deeper and deeper into an imaginary whirlpool. Silently in his head, he prayed to God for salvation. He begged for anyone to save him. His body resigned itself and he pulled the trigger. _Click_. The gun seemed to scream in his ear, ringing out and letting Daniel know his turn had passed. He gasped for air. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath and felt light-headed. He dropped the gun on the table and gripped his head, resting his elbows on the table. The man swiftly picked up the gun and moved it into position beside his head, ready to pull the trigger. After a moment of silence, he suddenly became enraged.

"No, you told me to do this!" he screamed, "You're the crazy one!"

He roared angrily and pointed the gun at the wall before pulling the trigger repeatedly until the bullet rushed out. The ringing of the gunshot brought Daniel back to his senses. The man was struggling with something Daniel couldn't see.

He slammed his fists against the table and repeatedly shouted, "Fuck you!"

The man finally calmed down and tried to catch his breath. He looked back up at Daniel.

"Sorry," he said, "Sometimes they don't know when to shut their big, stupid mouths. You know what I mean?"

Daniel didn't respond. He wasn't sure how the man would react to any answer he gave. It seemed like the man assumed Daniel could sympathize with him, but Daniel couldn't comprehend what the man was talking about.

"Let's start over…"

The man loaded the gun with one more bullet the same way he had before. He then placed the gun on the table and spun it. It slowly came to a stop with the barrel pointing at Daniel.

"Looks like you're first."

Daniel looked at the gun again. He didn't want to experience anything like what he just had ever again. He felt he should get it over with as quickly as he could. He picked up the gun and readied himself. He placed the barrel against his head, but stopped short. The intense dread began trickling back into his head like water flooding a room. He growled and forced himself to pull the trigger again. The gun let out another _click_. Daniel dropped the gun onto the table and tried to recollect his thoughts once more. He couldn't handle much more. He felt sick and thought he was going crazy. He looked at the man and thought he might end up like him. The thought of losing his mind further fed the monster devouring him. His vision grew cloudy as tried to keep his mind from shutting down. The man placed the gun against his head and pulled the trigger. The gun screeched as it sent the bullet through the man's head. The blast painted the wall beside them a shining crimson color. It startled Daniel, causing him to flinch and jump backward out of his chair. The sight of the man draped across the table was a relief to Daniel. After realizing what he was thinking, he shook his head and scolded himself.

"This is so fucked…" he said to himself.

He walked around the table and looked for a way out of the destitute station. As he walked through the hallways and reached the train tracks, he stumbled upon a strange metal object blocking the tracks out of the station. It looked like a large circle attached to a tri-pod stand, almost like a spotlight. He walked around it. Almost immediately, the pressure dissipated and his nausea slowly faded. The grey creatures had vanished from the tunnel as well. He looked at the back of the device. It had a couple of strange diagrams of green, red, and yellow shapes. There was a sort of legend describing something related to the machine that Daniel failed to understand. There was a collection of letters that read "ADD-SR" near the top. Underneath that, he found the words "Audio Deterrent Device – Short Range." He found a dial on the machine. On one end of the picture, the colored shape narrowed down to the word "off." It looked to Daniel like a slice of pizza that had been cut poorly. Daniel twisted the nob and the machine seemed to shut down. The machine puzzled him. He wondered what it was and what it was doing on the edge of the station. He came to the conclusion that it was something the Army had set up to keep the creatures or Jersey bandits from wandering into the tunnels. Daniel readied himself to head back to Grand Square. After a few moments of walking through the tunnel along the boarding platform, Daniel realized his nausea and the strange constricting pressure didn't return. He glanced around the boarding platform, scanning to see if any creatures had returned, but couldn't find any. Daniel looked back one more time at the machine as he walked into the darkness of the tunnel. He felt much safer as he walked further from the nightmarish station. He headed back home to Grand Square, happy to leave such a terrible place behind him.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Kid

Daniel sat in the seat of a railbike on its way to Grand station. It was stopped behind a line of other railcars. It seemed to Daniel that he was always stuck in traffic whenever he took the transit. He remembered sitting in a taxi cab next to his sister. His father would always sit in the front seat and chat with the driver. The taxi would inch along slowly as cars honked and sputtered along beside it. He remembered being just as bored as he was sitting on the railbike. Daniel listened to two men talking a short way ahead of him.

"Did you hear about what happened to 28th?" one man asked a railbike driver.

"No, what happened?" the driver asked in return.

"They got hit yesterday. Blackbeard said they went quiet all of the sudden."

"Bandits, maybe?"

"Some people over there said they saw that blue light coming from the south."

"You mean that ghost or whatever?"

"Yeah, it's gotten real close, hasn't it?"

"What, you think we're next?"

"God, I hope not. Whatever wiped out all those stations'd better not come here."

"What are you gonna do? Piss your pants and scare it away with the smell?"

"Come on, man! Aren't you at least a little freaked out?"

"Grand Square's got the Hunters and the Peacemakers. We'll be fine. Whatever monster comes knockin', they'll send 'em packin'."

A Peacemaker waved his arm to signal the railbikes to start moving again. Daniel reached the station and headed through the hallway. He passed by the corridor he normally went through to get home and up a set of stairs. He reached Grand station's residential area. The enormous hall could fit innumerable people at once. Hundreds of people passed through each and every day during their normal commute.

The ceiling was painted with a glamorous mural of the night sky. It was painted in an emerald-green color, with lines connecting the stars into constellations. Daniel knew what most had forgotten since the war; he knew that the painting of the sky he was looking at was actually backwards. It was a not-too-well-kept secret from before the war. It seemed untouched, as if the war had never occurred at all. That fleeting moment of hope was soon obliterated when Daniel looked back down. He looked at the gigantic slabs of metal that covered each of the windows that had once let brilliant shafts of light through. The beautiful floor that had shone like the armor of a gallant knight was now dull and dirty.

Tents and wooden shacks sprawled throughout the hall. The only thing that stood out among them was the Jewel. Daniel knew what it had been in the past. He remembered passing through the hall as a boy and looking at the clock above the information booth. It was lit up and shimmered like the sun. It was like a ball of pure gold. Its very existence was a beautiful contrast to the grey of the city and the faces of people walking past it. However, just like everything else in the world, its beauty had been stolen from it by the war.

Daniel meandered through the alleyways between the houses. Although it was essentially just a place for the poor citizens of Grand Square to live, the people seemed just as happy as the rest of the residents. People sat together around lamps and talked. A group of kids huddled together in a circle and played a game with a ball. One family was even gathered together at a table for their daily meal.

A man called out to Daniel, "Hey you! You're a Stalker, right?"

Daniel stopped and nodded.

"Why don't you tell us a couple stories? My kids wanna know what it's like outside."

Daniel looked behind the man. Two children sat on a bench near a fire, their eyes wide with anticipation and wonder.

"Sorry, pal," Daniel said, "I'm on a job."

As Daniel walked away, he could hear the kids whine with disappointment. Daniel reached a rather large structure stretching further than any of the other homes. It was like a mansion among the shanties. He prepared to knock on the door. He heard voices coming from within and took a step aside. He waited patiently as a young man and a young woman burst through the door and argued.

"Dad said you couldn't go!" The woman shouted.

"I already told you the King said I could!" the man shouted back.

Daniel knew he was referring to Ross, but always found it amusing when people called his friend a "king." He choked back a chuckle and continued listening.

"Dad said he wants you to be a driver like him. Don't you know how dangerous it is out there?"

"I know how boring it would be as a driver. I want to actually do something with myself; something exciting!"

Daniel decided he should interrupt their fight, "Don't let Stick hear you say that. He's proud of what he does. It's an important job."

Daniel's sudden intrusion startled the woman. She stepped back toward the door to her home. The man wasn't amused.

"That boring, old man just doesn't know what it's like to be a Stalker," he said.

"You really think so?"

"I know so!"

"That's funny… I remember when he found a huge stockpile of ammo on a boat in the bay."

"No way, that was the Prophet."

"I didn't say I wasn't there, but I wasn't the one who found it. You should ask him later."

The boy looked befuddled. His jaw dropped and he fumbled over his words.

"Y-you're really…?"

"Come on, Roy, that 'shocked fan' bit got old after the first hundred times."

Roy scratched the top of his head and put on an embarrassed face. Daniel turned to the woman.

"Diana, let your old man know I'm taking Roy for a bit."

"Dad said he can't go with you…"

"I'm sorry, but Ross told me to. Wouldn't want to upset him, right?"

She looked down at her feet. Daniel walked to her and crouched down so his eyes were level with hers. She peered through his mask and met his gaze.

"I'll make sure nothing happens to him, alright?"

Diana nodded once. Daniel patted her shoulder once and stood up straight. He gestured at Roy to follow him. They started to walk away, leaving Diana in front of her home. Roy turned around and gave her a quick and relaxed salute, which turned into a wave halfway through, before hurrying to catch up with Daniel. Daniel could tell he was excited. The pair walked together to the armory in Square station.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Orientation

Daniel stepped through the doorway into the armory. Sitting behind a counter was a man wiping the different parts of a disassembled gun with a rag. He was a younger-looking man; much younger than Daniel, but not quite as young as Roy. His uneven, brown hair nearly covered his eyes. The only thing covering his toned arms was dirt and hair. Daniel knew the man and knew that he'd never been anywhere outside of Grand Square. He was content to sit at a table and pick apart guns. Daniel breezed by the counter and toward the shooting range. Roy soon followed after him, catching the man's attention.

He put the piece of metal he was working on down and grumbled, "Hey, no kids in here."

"Relax, Moe," Daniel assured him, "He's with me."

"What are you, a babysitter now?"

"Something like that. He's a new Stalker."

Moe studied Roy closely. He narrowed his eyes and scowled.

"You won't last a week…"

His comment offended Roy.

"Hey, I've been on the surface before," he boasted, "I'll make it just fine."

Moe chuckled mordantly.

"The surface? Nah, I meant with this guy."

He nodded his head toward Daniel before continuing.

"That old windbag's worse than a Tabby. Angrier too."

Daniel looked at Moe with an addled look.

"Old…?"

Moe smirked at him.

"So, Prophet, what do you need?"

Daniel recollected himself.

"I'll take a rifle, an AR, a revolver, and a Piece. Oh, and a walker too, if you have one."

Moe laughed. He stood up from his chair and walked into a room behind him. Daniel led Roy to the firing range. The center focus for the range was the large target on the wall. Lined up on shelves surrounding the target were pots, bottles, and children's toys. Daniel felt sorry for the adorable stuffed bear that stared at him from the shelf. A small wall made of bags filled with dirt stood level with Daniel's waist a short distance from the target. Moe shortly returned carrying a few weapons in his arms. He placed them, a couple of boxes of bullets, and a few cartridges on a nearby table. Roy sat in the chair at the table.

"Let me know if you need more ammo," Moe said before returning to his seat behind the counter.

Daniel picked up each weapon and inspected them. He looked down the sight of the rifle. He pulled the trigger a couple of times. He pulled the bolt on the rifle back and looked into the breech. He slid a magazine into position in the assault rifle and shook it. He pulled the trigger of the revolver a few times and peered down the sights. Roy watched him intently as he went through each motion.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Daniel placed the revolver on the table.

"Alright, I guess it's time we start," Daniel said quietly to himself.

He picked up the rifle.

"We call these 'Lucky Seven,' 'The Seven Hundred,' or just 'Lucky.' It's a hunting rifle, so you usually don't see Stalkers using it."

"Does it give you luck or something?"

"No, it takes a lot of luck to actually hit anything with the thing."

He pointed at each of the pins that made up the sight.

"This is the sight. You want to make sure these things line up right, or you can't really shoot it straight. You could also just put a scope on it, if that's your thing."

He pointed to the barrel.

"This is where the bullets come out."

The pulled back the metal handle that hung down to the side of the rifle.

"This is the bolt. You pull it up and then back to open up the chamber and prime the firing pin. You put the bullets in, push it forward, and back down and you're good to go. Only thing is you gotta prime it every time you wanna shoot."

He pulled the trigger a few times.

"Always make sure the trigger isn't jammed and check to see if the sights line up right, or you won't live for very long. That goes for any gun."

"Do they jam a lot?"

"These guns are old and dirty, so there's no telling when they'll lock up on you. Unless you get your own gun and keep it clean."

"What do I do if it does jam on me?"

"Either smack it until it works, or ditch it."

"Isn't that a waste of a good gun?"

"Stalkers barely ever use these things and Hunters all have their own."

Daniel placed the rifle on the table and picked up the assault rifle. It was the same model as his.

"This is more like something we use. The Carbine: it's quick, small, reliable, and packs a mean punch."

"Do Hunters use them too?"

"Nah, they have the Fifteen. It's bigger than this because they don't have to worry about tight spaces like we do."

"Why is that?"

"You remember your Peacemaker armor? Imagine that, but every bit is double the size and twice as thick. They march down the road like trucks and blast anything that moves; then they have a couple guys drag it home. Stalkers are usually in buildings or tunnels, so the shorter barrel keeps it from hitting the walls."

Daniel looked down the sights and pulled the trigger a few times.

"Sights and trigger; always remember to check every time."

He slid the magazine in and jiggled it.

"Always make sure the magazine is secure. If you're not sure if it is, give it a whack on the bottom."

Roy failed to hide his amused giggle. Daniel ignored him and continued. He pulled back the handle above the stock.

"Pulling this will open up the cover where the spent cases are ejected."

He flipped the cover back up and demonstrated again.

"If there's a loaded magazine in, it'll also chamber a bullet for you. If you've blown your whole magazine and you need to re-chamber again, all you gotta do is push this button on the side here. Howlers won't wait for you to pull the handle again."

Daniel placed the Carbine on the table and picked up the revolver.

"This one's pretty straight-forward."

He stopped short and turned to Roy.

"What's the first thing we always check?"

"Sights and trigger?"

"Good, you really are paying attention."

He pulled the trigger a few times. He popped the cylinder loose and dropped it back on the table.

"Not much to say about these things. You put a bullet in and it does all the hard work for you. Just don't expect to reliably shoot through anything harder than plywood."

He looked at the mess of a weapon that he had yet to talk about. It looked like a Carbine that had been stripped down to just the barrel, trigger, and handle. However, the barrel was fatter and there was a block of wood whittled into a hand guard attached to the bottom of it.

"We call it the Piece of Shit, or 'Poss.' It was made by the Engineer here in Grand Square. It heats up like the sun and shoots about as straight as Moe after a night of drinking."

Moe shouted from the storeroom, "I heard that!"

Daniel continued.

"It doesn't shoot like the other guns."

He pulled a rifle bullet from the box of ammo and showed it to Roy. He pointed to the tip.

"This is the actual bullet. This bit past the crease here is the case."

He pointed to the case.

"There's gunpowder in here. When the firing pin smacks the back of this, it sets off the gunpowder like an explosion. The bullet is shot out and the case is left behind."

He put the bullet down and picked up the Poss.

"This launches the whole damn thing out. Bullet, case… everything. Makes the projectile bigger and heavier, though, and I've seen it take out a Tabby with one good hit in the head, so I guess it's pretty powerful."

"What about shotguns?" Roy asked.

"We can't use those at the range. Last time, someone was practicing on a bowling pin and ended up hitting himself in the head with the ricochet."

"What's a bowling pin?"

"That isn't important."

"So, what about that shotgun on the wall over there?"

Roy pointed to a weapon that was mounted on nails sticking out of the wall. It had one long barrel, with a rod sticking out of the bottom half-way to the trigger, a thin plate of metal that hung near the end of the barrel, and a long, wooden stock.

"That's a Spitter. It's another monster from the Engineer. It uses electricity to boil water and blasts it out. You gotta be real close to use it, though."

"Why would you want to waste the water like that?"

"They get it from the Hudson, so it's irradiated to shit anyway."

"Who is the Engineer and how does he come up with all these guns?"

"The way I heard it, he was an engineer before the war. Eventually people just started calling him the Engineer. Kind of how people call me the Prophet because I believe in God."

"Or how they call my old man Stick?"

Daniel nodded. Roy looked at the box of bullets.

"So, how come we shoot some bullets and use some as money?"

Daniel pulled each type of ammo from the box as he explained the value of each of them.

"Pistol bullets: they're probably the least valuable because of how easy they are to make and find and how little power they have behind them. Rifle bullets hit hard, but since rifles are so long and unwieldy, they aren't really used by anyone besides Hunters. Shotgun shells are everywhere, and I mean just everywhere. People before the war were paranoid and shotguns were actually legal for people to have, so they're practically the easiest to find."

"Legal? You mean people couldn't have guns?"

"There were a lot of restrictions so people weren't runnin' around blowing each other's heads off."

"How did they fight the monsters?"

"There weren't monsters. There were animals like the dogs we have down here that people kept as pets. People even kept little tabbies. They were called cats back then."

"Little tabbies? So they were nice and lived with people before?"

"Oh, no, they were still dicks. The little shits loved to sit on top of the refrigerator and claw at people's heads when they walked by."

Roy laughed.

"There are a couple of other kinds of ammo, but they aren't really for guns. They're for the contraptions the Engineer made for the Hunters, so you probably don't need to know about them. The last important kinds of ammo are the assault rifle types. You've got the dirty hunks of metal we make in the subway and the shiny, pre-war military bullets we use for money."

"Is it because they're shiny?"

"Not exactly. They hit almost hard as a rifle shot, but they can be fired much more quickly and the guns aren't too big to actually hold."

"What about the dirty rounds?"

"They're better than pistol shots, so that's something. That, and when you use the military-grade stuff, you're literally shooting money that you can be using to buy more important things like food. Moe can give us some dirty bullets when we go on a job, but we have to pay for our own filters and gas masks, which are much more important in the long run."

"How come?"

"Because they're actually worth the money."

"That's it?"

"That's it. They cost money because they're valuable. When you actually start heading up top, you'll come to realize just how valuable every second you get is."

Daniel decided to finish up his lecture. He remembered sitting through boring lessons as a kid and felt as though Roy was starting to feel the same way.

"Alright, I want to see you shoot."

Daniel showed Roy how to load a Carbine magazine. After they had loaded a few bullets into a couple of cartridges, they set up to fire down range. Daniel loaded the gun and fired a few rounds. He shot the center of the target, a few bottles, and the teddy bear. He unloaded the weapon and handed it to Roy. Roy slid the magazine into the slot and smacked it to make sure it was seated properly. He then lifted is finger up to the magazine release and pushed the button in, causing the cartridge to fall to the ground. Daniel heard Moe laughing behind him and couldn't help but let out a chuckle himself. Roy laughed sheepishly and scratched his head. Daniel reminded him where the bolt catch was and watched him as he accurately blasted bottles away.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Pandemonium

"Hey, Moe," Daniel called behind him as he walked out of the armory, "make sure he doesn't hurt himself, alright?"

Moe waved at him then returned to cleaning a gun. Daniel closed the door behind him and strolled toward the transit platform. Daniel noticed the halls were abnormally empty, with only a handful of people walking around. Daniel reached the platform. He paid the driver and climbed into the seat. He sat on his helmet. He pushed his back against the seat and moved the helmet before sinking back into his seat. The driver started up the motor and began driving into the tunnel.

"So, what are you doin' out and about, man?" the driver asked Daniel with a friendly voice.

"Just got off a job," Daniel answered, "I'm ready for bed."

"You a Stalker or somethin'?"

Daniel nodded.

"My brother's a Peacemaker. Told me to stay inside 'cause of that thing comin' up from the south, but I needed the ammo, so I didn't listen to 'im."

He laughed aloud.

"You get a lot of customers?"

"Nah, a lot of people got scared and stayed home."

Daniel noticed a light coming from behind them. It didn't look like a flashlight to him. It was blue and abnormally bright. He twisted in his seat and looked behind him. He was nearly blinded by what he saw. A dazzling blue and white ball of light was slowly floating through the air toward him.

"What the…" Daniel whispered, befuddled and awe-struck.

The driver turned to look and had the same reaction. Daniel couldn't tear his gaze from the anomaly. It was beautiful and glided through the air as if disconnected from the world around it. He could feel a strange steady pulsing feeling, almost like a heartbeat. It suddenly released a bolt of light from the center and made a sound like a circuit breaker exploding. The noise and the fire it caused broke Daniel out of his trance. Something in his mind told him to get away from the thing. He felt as though he were in danger. He grabbed the handle of the railbike and twisted it toward him. He was thrown back as the railbike picked up speed. As he and the driver got further away from the ball, the sounds of panicked screaming grew louder. He heard gunshots behind him as the railbike tore through the tunnel. They reached Grand station and couldn't stop quickly enough to avoid slamming into the empty railbike on the tracks. He and the driver were whipped forward, causing the driver's face to slam against the handle bars. He moaned in pain and held his nose. Daniel could hear the engine of a railbike behind him. He thought that someone may have had the same idea as him. He pushed the driver over onto the island platform and dove from his seat to the platform on the opposite side of the tracks. Mere moments later, another railbike smashed into the back of the one he was just in, crumpling it up like a piece of paper.

"What the hell is going on back there?" one of the laborers shouted.

Daniel stood up and climbed over the wreckage of his ride. He picked the driver up off the ground and dragged him back to the other side.

"Run," Daniel said with a pained growl.

No one responded. They simply stood around him and murmured to each other. Daniel could see the blue light crawling toward them on the wall of the tunnel. The driver noticed it too and dashed through the crowd. A man came sprinting out of the tunnel. Daniel could see the look of terror on his face. A streak of lightning and the sound of thunder cut through his body. He stood for a moment before dropping to the ground like a bag of sand.

"_Run_!" Daniel yelled.

People started screaming and pushed through the hallways. Daniel tried his best to move along with the crowd, but had difficulty keeping his footing as people shoved by him. He could feel the pulsing sensation from before. He knew it was drawing closer. He grabbed the arm of a woman who was pulling her young daughter through the crowd and dragged them into a small cove in the wall.

He pushed the woman against the wall and whispered, "Don't move and don't make a sound, alright?"

She quickly nodded. Her daughter looked up at them with fearful eyes. Daniel pressed his back against the other wall and turned his head to the hallway. It was empty; the mob had already moved deeper into the station. Daniel watched as the blue glow spread across the floor. The three of them didn't make a single sound. The woman had placed her hand over her daughter's mouth and was holding onto her tightly. Daniel's heart raced and pounded against his chest, as if trying to burst out. It came into view for just an instant. It had no discernable body parts or features. It looked to Daniel like a giant light bulb hovering above the ground. The center was a bright white color, but the light emanating from it was a light blue color. It reminded him of the sky he loved to look at as a boy. He remembered how excited he would get to see a plane flying through the air and how badly he wanted to be inside of it. He could see the splintering fingers of what he thought was lightning orbiting the center of the light. The lines of purple and blue energy swirled around it like knives caught in a tornado. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the light was gone again. It slowly crept toward the mess hall. It seemed to be following the crowd of people. He realized what it was.

"It follows the rats…" he whispered to himself.

He turned to the woman.

He spoke softly and sternly, "Get back to your home. Stay away from anything electric. If you see it coming, find a place to hide and don't move an inch until it goes away."

The woman nodded.

"You'll be alright. Just be careful."

Daniel left the woman and her child and headed in the direction the creature went. He couldn't hear any screaming anymore. It was as if the station had been completely deserted. Daniel heard the sound of metal banging against metal and shouting. He crept toward it. Two men were banging on a door and trying to get in.

"Come on, dude," one of them shouted, "Open it!"

"I can't," the other replied, "I dropped the key!"

Daniel felt the abnormal pressure again. Their struggling seemed to attract the monster. The glinting blue light crept toward them. Daniel drew his pistol and quickly rushed to them. He pushed them aside and blasted the iron lock, shattering it. He yanked it from the door and pushed it open. He shoved the two men into the room and slammed the door behind them. The room was pitch-black, save for the dim, blue glow that seeped in underneath the door. None of them made a sound until it had disappeared completely.

"Don't leave this room until someone tells you it's safe," Daniel ordered

He cracked open the door and peeked outside. The hallway was empty once again. He stepped outside of the room.

"Thanks, man," one of the men said before quietly closing the door behind him.

Daniel moved through the mess hall. He could see the bodies of unfortunate people that had been caught on the floor. He moved through the hallway to his home. He saw a group of Peacemakers behind a barricade.

"Hey, you!" one shouted, "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Daniel quickly ran to them.

"We need to shut down the generators," Daniel said quickly, "That thing is drawn to electricity. Maybe we can get it to leave if we shut them down."

The Peacemaker nodded.

"No one else has a better plan… Alright, let's get over there."

Daniel could see the light approaching once again. He pointed to a dark hallway.

"Get to the Jewel and use the stairs in the information booth. I'll draw it away from you guys."

The Peacemakers dashed into the hallway and disappeared from sight. Daniel could see the mysterious beast again. He twisted his pistol's silencer off and dropped it into his pocket. He pointed his pistol at the monster and started firing.

"Come and get me, you fuck!" he shouted before turning around and sprinting down the hallway.

He watched the blue glow cover the walls and floor in front of him. Before he knew it, the light had engulfed him. He felt a sharp pain shoot into his back, causing him to momentarily lose consciousness. He opened his eyes and watched the alien creature slowly float away toward the mess hall. He tried to stand up, but his legs felt weak. He curled over his knees and tried to regain his senses. He eventually gathered the strength to stand and pulled himself up. His vision was blurred and the world seemed to spin around him. He lost his balance and stumbled, catching himself on the concrete wall. His thoughts were scrambled and incomprehensible. The only thing he managed to catch clearly reminded him that his home was nearby. He slowly shuffled along the wall. His body knew the way, though the hallway looked unfamiliar to him. He couldn't hear his own footsteps. All he could hear was a loud monotone ringing. He stumbled into his room and slammed the door behind him. He slid his back down the door. He suddenly felt winded. He leaned against the door and tried to catch his breath. He sat on the floor in the dim white glow of the lamp on his desk.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Still

Daniel finally managed to steady his breathing. His vision had normalized and the ringing in his ears had subsided. His legs and arms felt numb with a slight tingling sensation in his fingers. He glanced up at the lamp.

"Fuck…" he said under his breath.

He heard a sound like the springs on his cot squeaking. He met the gaze of a woman standing by his bed.

"Are you alright?" she asked, "What happened?"

She looked worried. The look in her narrows eyes seemed familiar to Daniel. He felt like a similar situation had happened before. The lamp suddenly shut off, leaving them both in complete darkness.

"Oh, no… um…" she fumbled, "Hello?"

Daniel directed her weakly, "Keep calm."

He pulled his lighter out of his pocket and tried to strike it. Sparks flared and flashed, but quickly died. He still couldn't control his fingers well enough to light it.

"Let me help," the woman said.

She followed the light and took the lighter from Daniel. She placed her hands around his and gently pulled the lighter from his hand. He couldn't feel them through his gloves. He only felt the tingle of numbness in the tips of his fingers. She struck the lighter, creating a flame that lit a portion of the room in a very dim light. He could clearly see her hands, but her face was still coated in darkness.

"There's a candle in the bottom drawer of the desk," Daniel said.

His voice was quiet. His hearing still had not fully returned, so he could barely hear his own words. The woman kneeled beside the desk and opened the large bottom drawer. She rattled through the contents of the drawer for a moment before removing a tall candle and a tin plate. She placed the plate on the desk and stood the candle up on it. She held the flame to the candle; the fire licked the wick until it caught flame. The fire grew and burned brightly. She closed the lid of the lighter before handing it back to Daniel. He took the lighter in his fragile grip before dropping it back into his pocket.

"How did you get in here?" he asked the woman.

She replied meekly, "A Peacemaker shoved me in here and told me to stay inside until things calmed down."

Daniel didn't respond. He was satisfied with her answer.

"What happened out there? What was that thing?"

"God only knows…"

The woman looked at Daniel with a concerned expression.

"Are you alright?"

Daniel felt exhausted, but tried to respond with a little more energy, "I just need a minute to rest."

"What happened to you?"

"I think I was hit by lightning."

"Lightning?"

She didn't seem to know what he meant.

"Like an electric shock."

"A shock? You might have a burn. Let me take a look."

"No, I'm fine…"

"My father works in maintenance and gets shocked a lot, so I see how badly he gets burned all the time. At least let me look."

Daniel didn't have the energy to argue with her. He reluctant nodded his head. The woman pulled the chair away from the desk and left it in the middle of the room. She pulled Daniel off the floor and walked him to the chair. He slipped his coat off and dropped it on the floor.

"I'm Miyako, by the way. Thank you, for letting me stay here."

Daniel sat down in the chair.

"Daniel; and I can't exactly make you leave with that thing out there."

Miyako helped him pull his vest off. She placed it next to his desk while Daniel pulled his shirt off over his head.

"Wow…" Miyako gasped after looking at Daniel's back.

Daniel grew worried.

"What?" he grunted.

"It's… amazing."

Daniel tried to look over his shoulder, but was forced to stop by a sharp pain in his shoulder. The numbness in his body was starting to dissipate. His arms felt sore and he could feel the burn on his back. Miyako ran her fingers across Daniel's back. It didn't hurt, but he shifted in his seat and pulled away from her.

"Sorry, did that hurt?" Miyako asked.

"Yeah, a little," Daniel lied.

He leaned on his knees and hung his head.

"So? How's it look?"

"Well… have you ever seen a willow?"

Daniel wasn't sure what she meant.

"You mean like the tree?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, years ago. Why?"

"My father likes to collect photos from before the war. My favorite one is of him and my mother…"

She paused a moment. She tried to hide it, but Daniel managed to pick up on the strain in her voice.

"…and they're standing under a beautiful willow tree."

Daniel tried to lighten the mood, "I remember when I saw a willow tree."

Miyako recollected herself.

"Really? How long ago was that?"

"It was over thirty years ago. My family lived on the west coast in a town far away from the city. There was a big grove of them with a little lake in the middle. In the middle of the lake was this really big one that, at the time, had to be older than I am now. It stood on a tiny island alone. Kasey and I loved to sit under that tree and watch for deer that would come to drink from the lake."

Miyako sounded slightly disappointed.

"You two must have been really close."

"Yeah, we were. My friends all thought it was weird that I actually got along with my sister."

The lilt in Miyako's voice made a subtle return.

"Do you still see her? Is she in another station?"

Daniel paused for a moment.

"No… I don't see her anymore."

Miyako knelt beside him and placed her hand on his. He could feel her skin against his. It was soft and exuded a gentle, warm feeling. He looked at her face. Her eyebrows were furled. He could see tears forming in her eyes. The show of empathy was comforting to Daniel. He felt at ease, almost happy. He hadn't known a feeling like it in years. A small part of him wished he could hold on to that feeling for as long as possible.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Union

Ross burst into the room. His beaming smile lit up the already glaring room.

"Danny!" he said in his usual jubilant tone, "How the hell are ya?"

Daniel didn't respond. His headache still hadn't subsided. The thumping of the song on his radio next to the elaborately colorful lamp Miyako had given him didn't help either.

Ross looked at Miyako, who was soaking Daniel's bare back with a wet cloth and ice.

"I see you got your lady friend to come again," Ross said with a smirk.

Miyako smiled and said, "If I hadn't, this scar would only have gotten worse. I know I can't trust him to do this himself."

"Knowing this guy, he'd sleep it off like it was a flesh wound."

While he wasn't particularly bothered by Miyako's visits the past week, he didn't necessarily enjoy the company.

"Besides, it's the least I can do, since he's saved me twice now."

"I only saved you once," Daniel said coldly, "And I never asked you to come."

"Your tough-guy act isn't fooling anyone."

Ross chuckled, while Miyako dipped the rag into the cold water and rung it out over Daniel's shoulder. Daniel tried not to react, but quickly faltered. Miyako and Ross both found his shivering quite amusing.

"You know, Danny," Ross teased, "I'm surprised you could manage to hold on to a girl for more than a day."

Daniel resolved he wouldn't take Ross' abuse.

"What's the longest you've had a girl, huh? Twelve seconds?" Daniel retaliated.

"Best twelve seconds of your mother's life!"

His laughing was soon cut off by a voice on the radio.

"The word is still bustling," Blackbeard said, "It's still the talk of every harbor: the great Grand Square struck by the very gods. Thor himself walks our halls, my friends. Where's ol' Stark when you need him, right? Heh…"

Daniel and Ross listened closely to the broadcast. Miyako continued treating Daniel's wound as if the radio wasn't even on.

"Thanks to the eggheads in the Square, we know a bit more of how not to piss the thing off. If you see it comin', close your doors, turn out the lights, and turn off your radios."

Blackbeard played a sound clip of a crowd gasping in surprise.

"Now, I know what you're thinkin'. 'But Cap', how will we know what's goin' on outside our bleak little bays?' Well, you scallywag, let me tell you that this thing ain't something you want over for dinner, unless you won't miss your favorite tavern wench…"

After a slight pause, Blackbeard's grim demeanor disappeared.

"Anyway, I'm sure many of ya have better things to do than listen to me ramble. You've got more important things to do, right? Here's a bit of music for your tender little ear holes."

His voice died down and was replaced with the hum of music.

"Danny," Ross said quietly, "What do you make of that thing? You saw it first-hand."

Daniel quickly answered, "Whatever that thing was, it was not the work of any God. That thing was a monster."

There was a sudden knock on the door. Ross glanced at the door then turned back to Daniel.

"You expecting company?"

Daniel shook his head.

"It's open," Daniel called.

The door cracked open. A woman Daniel recognized stepped into the room.

"Victoria," Daniel said sardonically, "It's good to see you again."

Daniel was expecting an abrasive attack, but was returned with a quiet and shallow squeak, "You got a minute to talk?"

"Yeah, I'm free."

Victoria looked at Ross and Miyako with uneasy eyes.

Daniel tried to reassure her, "They're not going to bite you."

Ross shoved his way into the conversation, "Danny, I didn't know you were so popular with the ladies!"

"It isn't like that. She's with the group that helped me get home from the Red Line."

"Didn't you say you found a car with some dead guys on it?"

"Sorry for lying to you, but I couldn't trust that Army guy."

Ross' expression turned sour with worry.

"Then who is this broad?"

Daniel didn't respond.

"Which group is she with?"

Daniel didn't respond.

Ross was cut off before he could continue by Victoria, "I understand that helping us is a big risk. I'm not here to ask for help from your station, though. The Prophet owes us a favor."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm with the Black Cats. We helped the Prophet and agreed to let him pay us back later."

Ross raised his voice. He didn't sound angry, but he was practically yelling.

"Do you know what the Army will do to us if they find her here?"

Daniel simply responded, "Not a clue."

"They're already looking for a reason to stick their guns up my asshole! If they found out–"

Daniel raised his voice as well.

"Then they don't need to find out. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't be here right now."

His comment had stunned Ross. He couldn't find anything to say. He lowered his head and tightened his hands into fists. He turned to Victoria and pointed at her.

"You better not get caught here. I never saw you."

He quietly stormed out of the room.

"So, what do you want?" Daniel asked, "You're not going to put a gun to my head again, are you?"

"I didn't know who you were," Victoria said in return.

"That isn't a very good excuse."

She didn't respond. Daniel could tell she felt remorseful over what she had done.

"Well, what do you want? Do I need to clean your litter box or something?"

"We need something from Union station."

Daniel detected shame in her voice.

"Why me?"

"I can't go back there again…"

Daniel could sympathize with her.

"Alright… What am I fetching?"

"Reports from our scouts on Army patrol routes in the north. Last we heard from them, they were holed up in an old office and fighting off a squad of soldiers."

"I'll get it done."

"Thank you."

Victoria lowered her head and retreated out of the room. Daniel stood from his chair and slipped on his shirt. He turned to pick up his coat and bag. He met the cold stare of Miyako, who was sitting quietly on his bed. He began to gather his equipment and attach his flimsy armor to his body.

"You shouldn't be going out there with that burn," she scolded him.

"If I let every boo-boo stop me, I'd never leave the station again."

"That wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?"

Daniel let out a soft chuckle.

"Maybe not for me, but it would be for the guy who had to take over for me."

"You can't do everything yourself, you know…"

"Ross said the same thing to me not too long ago."

"Maybe you should listen to him."

"If I did, I'd never get to never get to leave the house."

She scowled at him. It looked to him like she was almost pouting. She obviously didn't find his terrible joke very amusing.

"Why do you push yourself so hard? Why don't you take a break and let someone else take over for a while? You need to rest."

"I'm not going to let this slow me down. I appreciate the sentiment, but you don't have to worry about me so much. I'll be fine."

"Your tough-guy act isn't fooling anybody…"

Daniel couldn't think of anything else to say. He knew trying to argue with her wouldn't get him anywhere. After finishing his preparation ritual, he quietly left the room. As he walked to the armory, he glanced about at the people in the halls. It was quiet. At least, much more quiet than usual. Scorch marks still clung to the walls and reminded Daniel of the event the entire subway took to calling "The Grand Shock." Just thinking about the terrible pun and the events of that night made Daniel's back hurt. The indomitable beacon of hope for the people of the subway was suddenly annihilated in a matter of minutes.

Daniel looked at the sullen faces of people he passed by. One family in particular caught Daniel's eye as he passed by. An aged woman held a silver box in her hands. The small crowd of people gathered around each had something in their hands. One by one, they walked to the woman and placed the object they were holding into the box. The last person to present their offering was a woman. She was slender and had long, bright yellow hair. Her skin was fair, if a bit marred with dirt and grime. She held what looked like a picture in her hands. Daniel made out the tops of a couple's heads and the Whispering Wall behind them. Before she placed the photo into the box, she froze. Daniel could see her shoulders jump up as she sobbed. The old woman handed the box to a man standing beside her and wrapped the weeping woman in an embrace. Before long, the old woman had begun sobbing as well. The two women stood at the center of the crowd and cried together. Daniel started to feel slightly drained and decided to move on.

After a short ride to Square, he reached the armory. He stepped inside and saw Moe showing Roy a selection of firearms.

"Perfect timing," Daniel said, "We got a job."

"For real?" Roy asked excitedly.

"It isn't anything big, and we're not getting paid for it."

"Why not?"

"This one's a personal favor. Get geared up and meet me at the green track."

Daniel turned to Moe.

"Did you ever get what I asked for?"

Moe stood up from his seat and disappeared into the storeroom. He returned shortly after with a pair of kneepads in his hand. He dropped them on the counter. Daniel placed a clip of shiny brass bullets on the counter and strapped his new pads on. They were covered with a black cloth. They were made of a similar material to his helmet. The soft padding of the back hugged his knee snugly and the smooth fabric of the strap gripped his leg tightly He nodded to Moe as he left the room and headed for Grand station to find a ride to Union station.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Echo

Roy followed Daniel through the destitute station. Daniel hadn't said a word to him since they got off the cart they had arrived on. Union station was abandoned. Roy looked around at the massive stains of dried blood on the floor and walls. He could see huge splotches of charred ground. It looked to Roy like there had been a massacre. He couldn't see any bodies on the ground. Roy looked up at Daniel. He had his Carbine in his hands, but he seemed relaxed. It was as if the tension Roy was feeling was a hallucination. Roy realized his vision had begun to blur.

"Dan," Roy complained, "I don't feel so great."

Daniel didn't look back. He had come to a complete stop and was just standing in the middle of the walkway. Roy grew worried. His vision grew dimmer by the second. Roy walked toward Daniel. The stifling air tightened even further as he walked closer to Daniel. Roy placed his hand on Daniel's shoulder in an attempt to get his attention. As soon as his fingers met the fabric of Daniel's coat, Roy's vision went black.

Roy quickly opened his eyes. Someone was shaking him.

"Hey!" they shouted, "Don't doze off on me. We need to hurry up."

Roy looked at the man. He knew the man. It was his older brother. His brother shoved a backpack into Roy's arms.

"Fill it up quick. We need to go."

His brother began shoving brown packages and cans into the bag in his hands. Roy picked one up in his small hands and examined it. Its defining feature was the large lettering reading "MRE" on the front of the package. Roy slowly placed several MRE packages and cans of peaches into his backpack. Roy heard people shouting behind him followed by several loud bangs. His brother flinched, causing him to drop his bag. He whispered expletives and hurriedly zipped his bag closed before flinging it over his shoulder and slipping his arms under the straps.

"We gotta go, come on."

Roy's brother gripped his arm tightly and pulled him through the station. They hurried down a flight of stairs and reached the boarding platform. A large crowd of people gathered around fires and flashlights. U.S. soldiers clad in their uniforms and brandishing rifles stood scattered around with the small clumps of people. His brother pulled Roy toward the train tunnel.

"Almost there…" his brother whispered between his heavy panting.

Suddenly one of the soldiers shouted, "Close it off!"

A row of soldiers moved in front of the mouth of the tunnel and pointed their guns at Roy and his brother, as well as anyone else who tried to move toward the tunnel. Roy's brother pulled him back into the crowd and led him through the weeping masses. Roy heard another of the soldiers shouting from the peak of the staircase.

"This station has been locked down. No one is coming in and no one is going out. We have information on a criminal outfit operating in this area. Once the perpetrators are apprehended, we will restore your freedoms. If anyone has any information-"

His speech was cut off by a couple of gunshots and shouting.

"Fuck you, Army!" Roy heard from somewhere in the crowd.

The soldier fell to the ground, screaming with agony. Other soldiers in the station panicked. One opened fire in the direction he heard the shots, causing a chain reaction. Other soldiers fired where they heard gunshots. Several bystanders were shot and either injured or killed. The crowd of people trampled through the station in an attempt to escape the violence. The commotion only further fueled the disarray and panic, causing more people to begin firing weapons. Fires and lanterns were kicked over, causing flames to spread across the boarding platform. Roy watched as a man who was engulfed in flames staggered across his path and tackled another person. Roy's brother pulled him into a dumpster. The top was broken, so Roy's brother had to use one hand to hold it closed, with the other covering Roy's mouth. There was an opening in the bottom of the dumpster. Roy could clearly see the feet of people sprinting past. The light of the fire crawled up the walls and coated the floor in a reddish-orange color. One woman fell down. She and Roy returned each other's stares. Her face was covered in blood and burns. Desperate people trampled over her as if she were just another ceramic tile. Her face soon stopped showing the pain she was feeling. She extended her arm toward Roy.

"Help…" she whispered before succumbing to her injuries and falling limp.

Roy felt numb. Tears started to well up in his eyes. He tried to scream, but his brother gripped his mouth even tighter, restricting his bellows to just a whimper.

"Don't look!" his brother whispered in a low, strained voice, "Close your eyes!"

Roy could barely hear what his brother was saying. He struggled to keep still and squirmed on the ground. What parts of him he did manage to hold in place continued to shiver. He felt like he couldn't breathe and struggled to inhale between sobs. The woman's look of twisted agony was burned into the back of his retinas.

"Come on, stay with me!"

Roy looked up to see his brother above him. He held Roy's face with one hand and gently slapped his cheek with the other.

"We need to go. We won't get another chance."

Roy felt himself being pulled up and out of the dumpster. He still couldn't concentrate. He clumsily followed the vague outline of his brother as it weaved between the flames and stacks of corpses. Roy tried not to look at the bodies. They only served to frighten him further. He heard people shouting ahead of him. His brother had his hands raised in the air.

"Don't fucking move!" they shouted.

"I'm not a threat; we just want to get out of here!" Roy's brother pleaded in return.

Roy looked past his brother at the soldier. His gun was shaking in his hands. He looked confused and agitated. The barrel of his gun was pointed at Roy and his brother, giving the feeble soldier an imposing figure.

"If you just let us past, you never have to see us again."

"You bastards… I'm not letting any of you out of here!"

Roy heard two deafening blasts. The terrible vibrations were followed by an intense tightness in his chest. He felt as if someone had slammed a baseball bat against his chest. He looked down to find his shirt changing color. His once light blue covering had begun to turn red. His knees suddenly felt weak and he fell to the ground onto his back. Roy's brother quickly fell to his knees beside him and cradled him.

"Kasey! Oh, God, no…"

Another man stood over them. His skin was jet black and his arms and legs were each as long as Roy's entire body. Roy tried to look at his face, but couldn't see through the vibrant shade covering it. His most mystifying features were his eyes. Roy felt as though he were staring at two tiny suns that constantly changed color, warping into a flurry of different shades of red and white before shifting into a hazel hue, then finally sinking into a deep black. He stared up at the strange, shadowy figure. While he couldn't see the man's face, he knew it wore a gentle expression.

His brother continued weeping, "God, please don't take her away…"

Roy felt a searing, burning sensation in his chest. The strange man reached out to Roy, his enormous, sausage-esque fingers opened up like a blooming flower. Roy reached for his hand.

"Daniel, I can see an angel," he said with a smile as the pain slowly began to fade away.

Daniel gripped Roy's hand tightly. He seemed to notice the angel standing above them and looked up at it. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and his arms drooped slightly. Roy weakly wrestled his hand free of Daniel's and slowly reached for the angel's fingers. As his hand neared the angel's, his sight grew dimmer and the roar of the fire around him faded away. He finally reached the angel, who took his hand and grasped it gently. It was a warm feeling. He got to enjoy that last feeling for just an instant before being engulfed by complete darkness and total silence.

When he opened his eyes again, he was standing with his hand on Daniel's shoulder. The gentle howl of the wind echoed through the station and the scuttling rats disturbed the pebbles of concrete that littered the floor. Roy took a step back and held his hand against his head.

"What the hell was that?" Roy asked himself, still in a daze.

Daniel answered him, "When an angel walks through the tunnels, they leave parts of themselves behind. When a memory is strong enough, it grabs those pieces and tries to tell anyone that passes by its story. They try whatever they can to avoid being forgotten."

"You could see all that crazy shit too?"

Daniel looked back at him. Roy couldn't see his face through the tint of his gasmask.

"Every time I close my eyes."

Daniel proceeded into the station to complete his mission without another word.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Harbinger

Daniel turned on his flashlight and scanned the halls of the station. He trudged through the darkness with Roy following closely behind him. Daniel could hear noise further into the station. As he moved closer toward it, he could see the glimmer of a light glinting off the walls. He pushed a curtain aside and stepped into a bar. A handful of men dotted the few seats scattered around the room. It was a segment of the hallway that had been divided with cloth and wood into its own room. A man sitting at the bar regaled the bartender with a tale of his harrowing adventures. Two other men sat at a table and chatted.

The bartender cut the man's story off and shouted at Daniel and Roy, "No guns. Put 'em away or get out."

Daniel slung his rifle behind his back. He glanced back at Roy, who did the same after receiving Daniel's glare. Daniel took off his helmet and sat in a chair at an empty table. Roy soon sat in a chair across from him. Daniel watched Roy glance about the room and back to him. He could tell the boy was puzzled, but kept silent.

"What the hell are they doing with a bar out here?" Roy asked quietly.

Daniel didn't answer him. The man at the bar had finished conversing with the bartender and called to the pair.

"Hello, friends," he exclaimed, "Let me buy you a drink!"

His thick Slavic accent made it difficult for Daniel to understand him. He quickly collected three drinks from the bartender and strutted to the table. He sat in the last empty chair and placed a drink in front of Daniel and Roy. Daniel looked at the man with a degree of suspicion. His hair was a washed-out black color, like a very dark grey. His sturdy-looking face drooped slightly. Daniel could see white hairs infesting his goatee. Roy looked at the alcoholic beverage cautiously. He looked to Daniel for guidance. Daniel took the drink in his hand.

"Drink up. It's rude to refuse a gift," Daniel stated.

Still uneasy, Roy picked up the drink and slowly took a swig. Daniel guzzled one large gulp as well.

The man said with a laugh, "You drink like my old man!"

Daniel prodded the man for information, "I assume you came from the Russian reserve station?"

"Yes, but I have not been back for a while."

"What's your name? I imagine you'd be offended if I just called you 'Rusky."

"My friends call me Brutus."

Brutus smiled warmly.

"Daniel; and the boy is Roy."

"It is pleasure to meet you both!"

He took a few large gulps from his mug before continuing.

"It's good thing you came. I don't know this area very well and was hoping to find some help back home to the north."

"Which station are you from?"

"Ninety-sixth on the Red Line."

Daniel felt a tingling sensation in the back of his neck. His brow furled and he shifted in his seat, taking on a more defensive posture. He chose his words very carefully.

"You're a long way from home, huh?"

Brutus let out a chuckle.

"I got a call from some friends out here that said they were attacked by two guys with weird insignias on their arms. They said it looked like a cat. I came to see if I could help them."

Daniel glanced at the two men at the other table. They both stared directly back at Daniel. One tapped his fingers against the binding of a journal. The light of the fire pit in the center of the room shone directly on them, but they didn't cast shadows. Daniel felt an uncomfortable chill from their glares. He turned back to Brutus.

"Why haven't you just called someone to pick you up?"

Daniel already knew the reason and fought the urge to look at the apparitional men in the corner.

"My radio won't work. I can't figure out what is wrong with it."

Daniel turned to Roy.

"Go get as a few more drinks."

Roy finished off his drink and stood from the table. Daniel noticed his walk was remarkably stable for a young man who had just swallowed beer from a foot-tall mug. He gave Brutus a stern look.

"Who are you really?"

"What do you mean?"

"That reservation was destroyed. Army made sure there were no survivors."

"I was not there when it happened—"

"Bullshit; they didn't let anyone in or out of that hole. And I've been to ninety-sixth. Last time I went there, I got shot at by a bunch of Russian soldiers. I don't think that's a coincidence."

Brutus realized his cover was blown. He narrowed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and leaned on his elbows. Daniel glanced at Roy, who was having a hard time trying to figure out how to carry three mugs of beer at once.

"Well, you caught me. So, I'd like to ask what you will do with this information."

"I want to know what you're doing here."

"I'm looking for a man called the Prophet. I want to know what his affiliation with the Army is. He killed quite a few of my people."

Daniel scowled and lowered his voice.

"I didn't kill anybody! If I hadn't done that job, Army would have invaded my home station too."

"You're the Prophet?"

"So, is that the only reason you people are here? To get me?"

Brutus fumbled as he endured the barrage of questions.

"Well, no, not exactly. Our supplies were running low. We decided it would be best to search for supplies in the city, since there were reports of human activity."

"So, you're a free people just trying to get by with what little you have, huh?"

"I guess so."

"Welcome to the club, then. We have meetings every Thursday."

Roy returned and placed the mugs on the table. Daniel stood up before continuing.

"If we're going to help you get back, we'd better leave now."

Daniel walked toward the two men in the corner.

Roy called from behind him, "What about the drinks?"

Daniel answered, "Leave 'em."

Daniel reached table. The men stared straight at Daniel. He avoided eye contact and glued his gaze to the journal. He could practically feel the air around him turning to ice. The man removed his hand from the cover of the journal, allowing Daniel the opportunity to pick it up and leave. He walked away from the table, nearly out of breath.

"What about the bill?" Brutus asked.

"Open a tab," Daniel ordered.

Daniel glanced at the bartender. He was sitting in a chair behind the bar and staring at his feet. His eyes looked glazed over. Daniel thought he would fall over if someone were to blow on him. Brutus and Roy stepped through the make-shift doorway and into the station. Daniel pushed the curtain aside. Before leaving, he took one last look back into the room. Wood chips littered the floor. The charred underside of an overturned table was nearly hidden in the thick darkness. The bar counter had a gaping hole in the center, as if a massive beast had taken a bite out of it. Daniel could see the body of a man draped over the piece of the bar still in-tact. Daniel looked at the table in the corner. The two scouts Daniel had been informed of were pressed against the wall. One had a pistol in his hand, while the other looked like one of his arms had been disturbed since his death. Daniel held the journal in his hand and looked at it once more before slipping it into his pocket and catching up with Roy and Brutus.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Hunter

Daniel led the trio through the tunnel. He could hear Brutus whistling a tune, poorly. The thought that someone should teach him how to whistle crossed Daniel's mind.

Brutus suddenly decided to strike a conversation with Daniel, "You know, you're awfully calm for someone with his back turned to a Russian spy."

Daniel responded, "If you were going to kill me, you'd have done it by now."

"You think so?"

"If you're really that bent on killing me, you're more than welcome to try."

"I think that would be bad decision."

"Really? Why is that?"

"'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' Well, that and you're my ride home."

Brutus smirked coyly. Daniel neglected to say anything back to him. As they rounded a bend, Daniel saw the glow of fire deeper into the tunnel. He killed his flashlight and extended an arm to signal for the group to stop. He peered closer toward the light. A single lantern hung in the tunnel.

"What is it?" Brutus asked in a hushed whisper.

Daniel didn't respond. He observed the illuminated area. He could see the dingy yellow paint of a boarding platform.

"These stations are supposed to be empty…" Daniel mumbled to himself.

Something wandered into the light. It was shaped like an enormous man. Daniel thought it was an angel at first, but quickly realized it was too fat. He narrowed his vision and tried to make out what the anomaly was. The angle of the light source painted the front of the object black. It wasn't until the flare of a flame lit up the cigarette jutting from its head that Daniel realized what it was. It was a Hunter, clad in his protective armor; a veritable wall of a thing, practically a tank on legs. Each piece of ceramic, sturdy plastic, and ballistic covering added to the size of the suit. He looked like a Peacemaker who had tripled in size. The fabric that clung to the suit was painted in similar fashion to Army fatigues: blocks of different shades of grey. As his arm fell to his side, a cloud of smoke riddled with nicotine and tar waltzed with the light around him. Daniel couldn't help but think the shimmering shafts of light that escaped between the thinner sections of the cloud were captivating.

Daniel turned to Brutus and said sternly, "Don't say a word, alright? No one can know you're a Russian."

He then turned to Roy before continuing.

"Something about this job you need to learn is how to keep a secret. You only tell people what Ross tells you to. This rusky doesn't exist. Got it?"

Roy nodded hesitantly with a befuddled look in his eyes. Daniel lowered his weapon and flipped his flashlight back on. He strolled along the narrow train tracks toward the Hunter. The Hunter seemed to notice him but didn't say anything until Daniel got close. He wasn't at all worried that Daniel was holding his firearm.

"What's a Hunter doing way out here?" Daniel asked, almost implicatively.

"On a job," the Hunter answered, "You a Stalker or somethin'?"

Daniel nodded once. The Hunter turned his head and looked at the other two members of Daniel's party.

"Big group for a Stalker job."

Daniel pointed over his shoulder to Roy.

"The kid's a pick-up."

"Can he shoot?"

"Anyone can shoot a gun."

"Wanna help us with a job? We need someone to watch our backs. You'll get a cut."

"What's the job?"

"Big-ass hawk."

Daniel looked back at Brutus, who shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess we have time. How far?"

The Hunter simply pointed to the ceiling.

"Does it have a nest?"

The Hunter shook his head.

"Alright, well, take us to the lead Hunter. I'm not going anywhere without hearing a plan first."

The Hunter dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his boot. He then signaled for Daniel's group to follow him and lumbered into the station. After only a few steps onto the platform, Daniel could see a table and campfire surrounded by a handful of Hunters. One leaned over the table and looked at a map while the others loafed around.

"Hey," Daniel's escort shouted, "I got some Stalkers to help out."

The Hunter standing at the table lifted his head and looked Daniel over. Daniel moved to the table.

"You Stalkers sure are quick," the Hunter chuckled.

"We were just passing through," Daniel responded.

"Well, it's good you showed up. Call me Shade."

One of the other Hunters quipped, "Would you drop that whole 'Shade' shit? No one thinks it's cool."

"Why don't you go fuck yourself, 'Roger'?"

"Hey, at least 'Roger' ain't as gay as 'Shade.'"

Another Hunter joined in the taunting, "How did you two ever make it through training? Let alone picked to lead a job…"

"We tried _really_ hard!" Roger japed.

The last Hunter Daniel hadn't heard from quickly brought an end to the teasing, "Tim, just tell them the plan and let's get this over with. I need to get home before my kid goes to bed."

Tim gave Roger one last glare before briefing Daniel.

"There's a big hawk in Madison Square," he said, "It's using it as a hunting ground or something. For whatever reason, Howlers just can't stay away from the damn place."

"It's gotta have a nest or something somewhere, then, right?" Daniel asked.

"That's the weird thing; it doesn't roost in the same place more than once. It moves all over the park and surrounding buildings."

"So how do you expect to kill it?"

"Bullets fly too, ya know. Roger may be a fucking dildo, but he's the best sniper this side of the river. We need to cover him so he can bring it down."

"Is there a reason to kill it? A few less Howlers out there sounds like a good thing to me."

"It would be, if they weren't hiding in the yellow twenty-three. Every time one them gets picked off, they run back into the subway."

Roger shouted, "Yeah, and those things fuck like rabbits, so they'll go on like that forever."

Tim continued, "That's why we need some Stalkers to hang out in a crow's nest we set up in a building across the street on the south side. You guys let us know when those Howlers come at us so we can cover Roger."

"Sounds easy enough," Daniel said, "What's the pay?"

"You guys'll get fifty bullets each."

"That's a cut? Big pay, even for a hawk hunt…"

"Army's been real spendy lately. Not like they can't afford it."

"Is this station really that important?" Roy asked.

Tim answered, "They use that tunnel as a trade route between City Hall and Square."

"Why don't they just clear out the Howlers? Aren't they the _Army_?"

"Kid, I don't get paid to ask questions. I got no fuckin' clue."

Daniel was just as puzzled as Roy. He thought it was curious that the Army wouldn't simply retake the station. He figured they were up to something.

His meditation was interrupted by Tim, "So, you guys haven't said much. You got names?"

Daniel answered, "Daniel, and the big guy behind me didn't tell me his name, so I just call him 'Brute' because he's good with his fists."

"Strong, silent type, huh? Roger could learn a thing or two from you."

Roger extended his middle finger and thrust his arm in Tim's direction.

Tim asked, "Should we leave the kid here?"

"Who knows what kind of shit he'll get into if I leave him alone; it's better if I keep an eye on him."

"Alright, well, you guys get up to that look-out and let us know when you're in position. We'll start the hunt when you guys give us the word."

Tim handed Daniel a two-way radio. Daniel took the radio and nodded before heading toward the station exit with his two tag-alongs in tow.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: World's End

Daniel pulled on the metal slate that blocked the exit to the surface. The grinding screech it made pricked Daniel's eardrums. When he emerged from the hole, he was greeted by the howl of the wind, the usual crumbling buildings, and strands of green fauna poking through the cracks in the concrete. As Roy reset the metal slab over the subway entrance, Daniel began walking toward his destination. He could see the sprouting leaves of the trees in the park down the road. Shafts of sunlight crept through the thick sheet of clouds and illuminated a crashed fighter jet in the middle of the road. Daniel approached it, keeping his rifle ready. He knelt beside the canopy and peered inside the cockpit. The bones of the pilot still remained within. When Daniel placed his hand on the metal of the craft to lean in for a closer look, he blacked out.

When Daniel regained his senses, he was in the seat of the jet. His aircraft sliced through a fluffy, white cloud and emerged into the clear sky. He had a brilliant view of the entire city. The sight of the sunlight shining off the rippling waves of the bay was struck him with awe.

"Scarface," his radio blared, "Stay in formation."

Daniel looked through the window of the canopy at the two other aircraft flying beside him.

Daniel responded indignantly, "I told you not to call me that."

"You don't get to pick your callsign, lieutenant."

Another voice crackled through the radio, "Cap's right, Scarface. It's your own fault for calling that dude's sister a slut."

"In his defense," Cap said, "She was a slut."

"You guys are a couple of regular jokesters, aren't-cha?" Daniel asked sarcastically.

"'Joker,' eh? I like it."

Cap quickly shut his idea down, "You're more like a stooge. How about Shorty?"

"Who the hell are you callin' short?"

"Lieutenant, my wife's like the Empire State compared to you."

Daniel chuckled.

"So, Scarface," Cap said, "How's the new bird feel?"

"These new sixteens are real nice, huh?" Shorty asked.

"She handles like a dream," Daniel said, "Feels like I never went on leave."

The glint of a rocket engine caught Daniel's eye. He watched as it rose into the sky over the water.

"Looks like training's starting," Cap said, "Those lucky bastards get the first go at it."

Daniel locked his gaze on the trio of fighter jets that approached the missile. Shortly afterward, the missile exploded, sending a bright orange cloud of fire and pillows of black smoke through the air.

"All comms!" Cap shouted.

Daniel quickly switched the frequency on his communications device. As soon as he hit the global frequency, his radio exploded with voices that crackled through the speaker. They sounded panicked.

Daniel could barely make out Cap's voice in the confusion, "Mother Bird, what the hell are you people doing?!"

Daniel could see a massive barrage of missiles flying toward the city from the ocean. The silhouette of the rockets looked like an entire squadron of fighter jets invading the city. The smoke trails they created streamed through the air. Daniel could only watch as they approached the city.

His commander, AWACS Mother Bird, spoke clearly through the radio, as all other voices quickly died down, "Two Russian submarines have just been spotted firing on the city from within the bay. You are ordered to remain in your sectors and shoot down any and all incoming missile strikes. This is not a drill! I repeat: this is _not_ a drill!"

Daniel switched back to his flight's frequency.

"You heard the man," Cap exclaimed, "Switch to thermal targeting and shoot those things down!"

Daniel switched the vision mode of his visor. The entire city was painted white. Daniel searched for any rockets that were cruising into the section of the city he was assigned to defend. The flare of their engines blinked a dark shade of black. Daniel tore through the sky, positioning himself behind rockets. He wrapped the targeting reticle on his heads-up display around each missile before pulling the trigger on his flight stick. His jet spat a black beam into each rocket until Daniel released the trigger. After a few moments of being exposed to the special laser, the rocket would explode, causing fire and shrapnel to scatter through the sky. As Daniel flew through or around each cloud of red-hot fire, he could hear the shards of metal and glass bouncing off the canopy of his aircraft. Several of the rockets also spewed out a fluorescent green liquid as they ruptured. The voices of other flights assigned to his sector filled his head as they barked numbers and information largely unimportant to Daniel. Cap would occasionally respond to them.

"Are the Ruskies invading?!" Shorty asked hurriedly, still mostly preoccupied with neutralizing the threat.

"There's no way, "Cap answered, "They nuked the shit out of those bastards."

"Are these guys leftovers, then?"

"How the hell should I—Shorty, left!"

"On it!"

Daniel repeated the process of painting each missile until it exploded. With each rapid roll or pirouette, he felt more and more drained. He felt as though there were no end of missiles. For each rocket he took out, ten more would emerge from beyond the bay.

Mother Bird's voice suddenly blasted from Daniel's radio, "Attention all aircraft; pull out immediately!"

"Mother Bird," Cap shouted back, "What the hell are you—"

"They just launched a nuclear strike! One of the submarines was carrying nukes! Get as far away from the blast as you can!"

Daniel switched off his infra-red system and looked up through the atmosphere. He could see the smoke trail of the missile as it spiraled toward the city. The only cloud in the sky was the one it created. Daniel surveyed the area. As buildings were ripped apart by the missiles, Daniel could see all the other aircraft flying toward the sea, away from the city. His was the closest plane to the bomb. With hardened resolve, he quickly swiveled his aircraft into a path to intercept the bomb.

"Scarface," Shorty screamed, "what the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm the only one who can stop it," Daniel said, "It's high enough that it wouldn't cause too much damage."

"What are you on about?! Get out of-!"

Daniel switched off the radio. He knew arguing with Shorty was futile, as both of them were too stubborn to back down. He knew his opportunity to escape the explosion had passed, anyway. He positioned his reticule onto the bomb. He pulled the trigger and kept his sights on target. After a few painstaking moments, the bomb burst. The flash was blinding; Daniel couldn't see a thing. He felt the rush of the wind slapping his jumpsuit. As his vision slowly came back to him, he saw that the canopy of this craft had a hole punched through it. He looked at the jagged edges of glass. He noticed something moving behind them. Averting his focus, he watched as the Empire State Building was ripped in half by the force of the explosion. It toppled and collapsed onto the summits of other skyscrapers nearby, coming to a rest on top of them. He realized his plane was plummeting toward the ground in a nosedive. He pulled back on the control stick, but his jet didn't respond. He tried to restart the engine, but there was no power. His aircraft was dead, with no chance of preservation. He tried to pull on the ejection handle between his knees. He straightened his back and yanked the handle upward. Nothing happened. He yanked on the handle several more times, but still, nothing happened. He thought the canopy might be jammed, so he tried slamming his fist against it. He placed his palms against the glass and pushed as hard as he could. It still would not come loose. As he drew closer to the ground, his actions became more sporadic and his breathing got heavier. He desperately slapped and shoved the canopy. Each time he did, his whimpers grew louder. He resumed his attempts to pull the ejection handle, praying he may have loosened the canopy enough for the system to save his life. He frantically pulled the handle until the aircraft finally slammed into the concrete road.

Daniel regained his senses once again. He was greeted by the ghoulish, grey remains of the old world and the soft footsteps of his companions.

"Find anything good?" Brutus asked facetiously.

"Just some old bones," Daniel responded.

Daniel positioned himself back into his crouched stance and moved to the wall of a building. He looked back at the crashed airplane one last time.

"If you didn't have them already, I'm sure God gave you your wings for that," he whispered to himself.

He whispered a short prayer for the soul of the pilot. Now wallowing in sympathy, he quietly followed the path to his destination with a revised sense of duty.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Hawk Hunt

Daniel slowly opened the heavy wooden door. He pointed the tip of his Carbine ahead and swept his gaze across the room. He didn't see any movement, prompting him to enter the room. Once inside, he scanned the room more thoroughly. It reminded him of the vestibule of the apartment complex he lived in before the bombs fell. He noticed a glinting light peeping through a gaping hole in the wall. He stepped over the cracked drywall and wood into another room. If was a largely empty bathroom, save for a tiny fire pit, a rope tied to a bucket stretching through another hole in the ceiling, and a wobbly clamp made of wooden boards and rat trap springs that held the rope tightly in place. It reminded Daniel of a clothespin. Daniel holstered his weapon and approached the contraption. He inspected the clamp. The wood wasn't rotted, which was a surprise to Daniel.

"Roy," Daniel called quietly, "Come here."

Roy and Brutus stepped into the fire light.

"What's up?" Roy asked.

"You see this?"

"What about it."

"Just look."

Roy stooped next to Daniel and looked at the clamp. Brutus looked over his shoulder to get a closer look.

"What am I looking at?"

"You see how it's set up? The wood holding the rope."

"Yeah."

"Always make sure it's set tightly. If it's just sitting there off the clamp, it means the counter-weight got cut off. If there's no counter-weight, the thing isn't going anywhere. Got it?"

Roy nodded. Daniel stood up and gently pushed Roy aside. He placed one foot inside the bucket and wrapped both hands tightly around the rope. He kicked the bottom of one of the boards, releasing the clamp. He was immediately propelled upward, through the hole in the ceiling. He quickly ascended through the building. He watched as the counterweight, a large chunk of concrete, sailed past him. He rocketed through the building, bypassing a few floors before coming to an abrupt stop at his destination. Still slightly dizzy from the rapid movement, he held onto the rope until he could steady himself.

"Fifth floor: birding and hunting supplies," He joked to himself.

He took the walkie-talkie Tim had given him from his belt and held a button on the side in.

"I'm sending the elevator back down," he said, "Make sure it's secure before you empty the bucket, got it?"

Roy replied, "You got it, Boss."

Daniel stood the bucket on the floor beside him. He placed several heavy pieces of rubble and wood he found in a pile nearby into the bucket. He held the bucket steady until it stopped wiggling before releasing the rope and letting it slowly glide down to his companions. He stopped the counterweight from moving when it reached the top. After a few moments, the counterweight suddenly dropped. Daniel could hear Roy screaming throughout the entirety of his ride on the elevator. Roy came to an abrupt stop at the peak of the elevator shaft. Daniel promptly pulled him off the elevator by his coat's collar and cupped his gasmask with his free hand to hold his face in place.

Daniel scolded him in a disgruntled whisper, "Keep it the fuck down!"

Daniel released him. Still slightly dizzy, Roy stumbled back against the wall.

"Man," he exhaled, "That was a rush."

Daniel placed the bucket on the floor.

"Take some rocks from that pile in the corner and fill up the bucket. We need to get Brutus up here."

Roy nodded and crouched beside the bucket. He started placing large rocks into it.

After Roy had placed several rocks into the bucket, he turned to Daniel and asked, "This good?"

"Is it heavy enough to go back down?"

Roy hung the bucket over the hole. After steadying it, he released the rope. The bucket hung in place above the hole. Roy added more rocks and wood until the bucket drooped and sank into the hole. A short while afterward, Brutus practically flew up the shaft and came to an abrupt stop just before hitting his head on the ceiling. He fell backward off the bucket, out of breath.

"That was a rush!" he said between gasps.

"You get used to it after a while," Daniel explained.

Daniel started toward the window carved into a nearby wall.

"What, do you people do this every day?"

"More or less."

"You people are crazy."

Daniel stooped next to the window. Roy soon followed. He pushed a small pot filled with dirt aside and peered through the frame down into the park.

"Twenty years ago, I used to watch Russians jump from rooftops on tire swings and hop between the tops of moving cars."

Brutus adjusted his gasmask and joined Daniel and Roy beside the window.

"I said the same thing about them too."

Brutus chuckled. Daniel noticed a Lucky rifle resting against the windowsill.

"How's your aim, Brutus?"

"I'd say I'm pretty good shot. Why do you ask?"

Daniel took the rifle and passed it to Brutus. The scope glinted in the dim sunlight. Brutus took the rifle and examined it. Daniel pulled his monocular from a pocket on his thigh. It had been a pair of binoculars in the past, but had long since snapped in half. Daniel had continued using the half that retained its functionality. Daniel looked into the park. He noticed several Howlers wandering between the trees. Daniel had only just realized that the cold season had ended and the leaves had begun to emerge from the branches of the trees. The trees were shaped almost like umbrellas. They dotted the park, creating a tiny, sparse forest.

Daniel spoke into his radio, "We're ready whenever you are."

Tim responded, "I hear ya. On our way now."

Daniel placed the radio back on his belt.

Brutus struck up a conversation, "You know, you're pretty ballsy to hand an enemy spy a gun."

Daniel responded half apathetically, "Didn't we already do this bit?"

"Maybe we did. I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill me, yet, though."

"Why is that?"

"Well, we did blow up your city. Most people would be pretty upset about that, no? They'd probably hate our guts."

"Probably."

"But you don't?"

"If you had asked me a few years ago, I would have said I do."

"And now?"

"Look, I've got monsters trying to eat me, several armies trying to invade my home, and a new life-threatening job to do every day. I've got way too much going on in my life to worry about hating Russians."

Brutus laughed. He seemed to find Daniel's ranting quite amusing. Daniel noticed another animal wandering into the park. It had an incredibly long neck, with even longer legs. Its neck was lined with a black mane that reminded Daniel of a hairbrush. Its legs were covered with a dark brown carapace that crept all the way up to its underbelly. It slowly meandered toward a tree before stopping in front of it and nipping at the budding leaves with its long beak-like snout. Its long, thin ears twisted back and forth, as if scanning its surroundings. Between its radar-like ears were a couple long, thin horns shaped almost like antennae. Its skin was covered in alternating stripes of white and black.

"Well, that's what keeps attracting the Howlers," Daniel whispered to himself.

Brutus seemed to notice it too.

"What is that thing?" he asked with a degree of amazement, "Some kind of weird zebra-giraffe monster?"

Daniel answered, "It's called a Jackalope. It's harmless."

Just as Daniel answered, a group of Howlers surrounded the Jackalope. The enormous creature immediately darted away at an incredible speed, leaving the group of hungry Howlers in the dust.

"And what are those dog things? That one looks like old bulldog I had as a boy. Oh, and that one looks like Lassy!"

"Howlers. They're nasty, but nowhere near as nasty as a Tabby."

"Tabby?"

"It looks like a big tiger and is as mean as a scorpion."

"Any other beasts or monsters I should know about?"

A hawk suddenly swooped down and landed on top of a Howler, crushing and killing it instantly. It then turned and screeched at the other Howlers nearby. Its raven colored feathers and menacing howl filled Daniel with dread. It was as if the Reaper had descended on the pitiable creatures that scrambled to escape it. It scooped the dead Howler up with its beak before flying away to devour its kill.

"Does that answer your question?"

"You people deal with these things every day?"

"More or less. More just them, though."

Daniel gestured toward the group of Hunters as they marched up the street.

Tim's voice crackled through the radio, "I guess we're a little late, huh?"

Daniel responded, "You just missed him."

"I guess we'll just have to call him back over, then, huh?"

The Hunter in the center of the line pointed his weapon into the air and fired off several rounds. After a few moments, Daniel could see several curious Howlers cautiously approaching them. The Hunters began firing at the monsters as they approached. It didn't take long for the Hawk to take notice and find itself a perch atop one of the buildings overlooking the park.

Daniel warned the Hunters, "He's on the north end."

Daniel noticed one of the Hunters peering through the scope of a rifle toward the north. Daniel assumed it was the sniper, Roger. After a moment he shook his head.

"No shot. Let us know if he moves."

Roy tapped Daniel on the shoulder and said, "Dan, there's a Tabby there."

He pointed at the road. Daniel saw a Tabby slowly inching its way toward the group.

Daniel spoke into the radio again, "You got a Tabby behind you guys; back the way you came from."

Daniel watched as a Hunter turned toward it just as it pounced. He drew his pistol and cupped his hand around the barrel of it. As it leapt toward him, he smashed the pistol against the side of the huge cat's head. The Tabby was sent reeling and tumbled to the ground. Another Hunter slammed his boot onto the Tabby's neck, pinning it in place, before delivering one fatal blast from his Remmy shotgun to its head. Dissatisfied with simply observing the scuffle, their quarry decided to take flight. It rose into the sky. Raven-colored feathers gently swayed through the air. Just as quickly as it had taken flight, it plummeted to the ground. It landed near the group of Hunters. Daniel could feel the tremor of the landing shake the building. It snapped at Tim. Tim quickly pushed his gun into its beak to block the attack. The two giants struggled for a few moments before the bird attempted to take flight again. Tim released his weapon and stumbled backward. Daniel could hear him shouting, but couldn't make out what he was saying over the snarls and gunshots. He watched Roger follow the monster with his gun. He fired twice, hitting the bird both times. His effort wasn't enough, as it continued to climb into the air. Brutus fired a shot at the beast. The sudden noise startled Daniel. However, Brutus seemed to land the killing blow. The bird tumbled and fell from the sky. It flew right toward Daniel and his group. Roy tried to hurry away from the window, but tripped and fell backward. Daniel noticed the bird was too low to actually hit his window. Instead of running, he gripped the windowsill and braced for the impact. The bird slammed into the building at a lower floor. The building rumbled and shook. Wood and rock rattled along the floor. Parts of the ceiling and supports rustled or collapsed. Daniel could hear the debris falling beneath him. The commotion quickly died down.

Daniel held his hand in front of him and quickly said, "Nobody move!"

He waited a few moments. Brutus and Roy didn't move or speak. Daniel waited until he was surrounded by total silence.

Tim's voice suddenly blared through the radio, "You guys alright?"

Daniel looked to Roy and Brutus. Each nodded to him in affirmation.

Daniel took the radio in his hand and responded, "We're good."

"Good, good. Damn nice shot by the way. Could you check it out and make sure it's dead?"

"Yeah, we're on it."

Daniel placed the radio back on his belt and stood up. He took the rifle from Brutus and walked to the elevator. He placed several weights in the bucket and descended through the shaft. Daniel knew the bird was only a couple of floors down. The dust created a thick fog. Daniel turned on his flashlight and stepped off the elevator on the floor he was sure the hawk was on. He quietly searched the floor for the bird. He opened a door and discovered the monster lying on the floor. He glanced at the gaping hole where it had breached the building. It reminded him of an old comedy film where a wrecking ball invaded the protagonist's home. Without the time to giggle at the memory, he quickly pushed the thought aside. He loaded his rifle and slowly crept toward the hawk. It was deathly still, but Daniel didn't want to take any chances. He aimed the rifle at the bird and shot a bullet through the top of its head. The only motion it showed was from the force of the bullet tearing through its skull. Daniel loaded his rifle and stepped closer to it. He placed the end of his gun against the beast's head and fired one more time. Absolutely sure the creature was dead; he turned to rejoin his companions. He stopped at the doorway and took one last look at the monster.

"'Flying rats' my ass…" he whispered to himself.

He let out a sigh of relief and headed for the elevator to return to the safety of the subway tunnels.


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Clash

Daniel took the magazines. A mid-sized stack of a few long and short metal cartridges teetered in his hands.

"There ya go," Tim said, "Fifty bullets for each of you, as promised."

Daniel looked at the openings of the magazines. Each one was filled to the brim with shiny bullets.

"Looks good to me," he said.

"A'right, catch you later. Thanks again for the help."

Tim turned with a wave before disappearing into the doorway of the armory. Daniel turned and handed one magazine of each type to Brutus and Roy.

Daniel turned to Roy and said articulately, "You should save that twenty for food and things like that. Even if it's just a little, it's always a good idea to save some money. Especially since these military-grade rounds are the only real form of currency now."

Daniel glanced up at Brutus, who seemed to have understood his message.

Roy, who had not, responded, "Didn't we already cover that?"

"A reminder never hurts."

Roy nodded, still completely ignorant to the reminder's real meaning.

"We're done, if you wanna head home, Roy. Let your old man know I'm still up for our weekend game."

With a relaxed salute, Roy shrunk down the hallway leading to the Commons. Daniel led Brutus in the same direction. They walked a short distance before being intercepted by Daniel's boisterous buddy.

"Danny!" Ross shouted happily, "When did you get back?"

"Can't talk, Ross," Daniel explained, "I need to get a ride north for this guy."

Daniel gestured toward Brutus. Ross didn't seem to detect the subtle desperation in Daniel's voice.  
>"Eh, that can wait. I hear you took out a freakin' Hawk, so you gotta tell me about it!"<p>

Before Daniel could protest, Ross had wrapped his arm over Daniel's shoulders and was already dragging him toward the office. It wasn't long before they had arrived, as the office was just around the corner. Ross sat behind his desk and pulled a few glasses up. He placed them on the tabletop and stood from his desk. Brutus took a seat and idly fiddled with his fingers or his coat.

"Alright, Danny," he said, "I wanna hear about how you took out a motherfuckin' Hawk!"

The excited gestures he made with his arms shook his whole body.

Daniel stammered, "Listen, Ross, I really gotta go. I need to get this guy a ride north."

Daniel motioned toward Brutus with his hand.

"He ain't one of the Hunters, is he?"

Daniel shook his head.

"Was he there when you shot it?"

"Yeah, I'll tell you about it later. Right now-"

"I want to hear it now, man! I don't get much time to sit and relax anymore, you know."

"We really can't-"

"Hey, buddy. You want a drink?"

Brutus, still enthralled by some gunk stuck to his coat, absentmindedly responded, "No, thank you."

A tingling jolt of surprise shot up Daniel's spine. His face quickly spread into a grimace. Ross stood at his liquor shelf. He didn't move an inch. Daniel couldn't see his face. Brutus realized his mistake and looked up at Daniel. Daniel let his disappointment and worry show on his face.

Ross finally broke the silence, "Did I just hear that right?"

Daniel and Brutus remained silent. They both stayed completely frozen.

Ross raised his voice, "Did I just hear that right?"

Daniel and Brutus still did not respond. Brutus looked to Daniel, hoping to find some hint of a lead. Daniel frantically searched for something to say to calm Ross down, but was at a loss for words.

Ross turned around and said through clenched teeth, "No one move an inch."

He stomped to the door and forced it open, startling the Peacemaker standing guard outside.

Ross said to the guard, trying to hold back his anger, "No one gets past those checkpoints. I want this whole area clear until I say otherwise."

The guard nervously asked, "C-can I ask why, sir?"

"I suspect there's gonna be a murder."

Ross turned back into the office and slammed the door behind him. He glanced at Brutus before staring Daniel right in the eyes.

Ross asked, as more of a statement than a question while emphasizing each word, "What the fuck?"

Daniel couldn't find and answer for him. Ross walked back to his desk. Daniel could practically feel the heat of rage blast him as Ross passed by.

"I can understand those other guys," Ross continued, "they helped you out. I can look past repaying the favor there."

Daniel remained silent. Ross pointed at Brutus and raised his voice.

"But this fucking Ru-"

Ross quickly caught himself before saying the word so loud. As he continued his rant, his words became further steeped in vitriol.

"I helped you out with MedRite. I ignored your deals with those bandits when you offed that soldier. You've done a lot of stupid shit, but this? This really takes the fuckin' cake! Next thing I know, you'll be head of the fuckin' LOU!"

He soon gave up trying to contain his anger.

"What in the God-damned hell were you thinking? Huh?! Do you have any idea of how fucked I'd be if the Army caught wind of this? If they found out I had one of these people in my station, they'd kill me!"

Daniel finally blurted out in a low growl, "They're already trying pretty damn hard to kill you."

"At least they didn't blow up the damned world! Have you been upstairs lately?"

Daniel looked up to return Ross' glare. As the argument went on, both Daniel and Ross raised their voices to the point of screaming at each other.

"Are you sure about that? Who really shot first?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"The Russians weren't the ones that let Anarchists into Penn Station. The Russians aren't the ones that wipe out entire stations! No matter how fuckin' buddy-buddy you get with them, they'll kill you too! All the shit going on doesn't strike you as a little off? Like they're setting up for something?"

Daniel lowered his voice to a sinister hum.

"Mark my words; they're going to try something soon. You'll need all the friends you can get when they do."

Ross didn't answer. He had leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. Daniel looked back at Brutus.

"Especially when that friend is the one that killed a Hawk…"

Ross looked at Brutus. His look of anger drained into what looked more like duress. His voice had lowered in volume, but was still heated.

"Then what do you think I should do, huh? Let Russians run around here and start another war? I'd rather my station not be turned into a battlefield."

"With the Army, everything turns into a battlefield. Have you been upstairs lately?"

Ross wasn't amused. The room sat in silence for a moment. Daniel thought he might have a chance to get through to his friend. He dropped his aggressive attitude and tried to reason with Ross.

"Look, Ross; I'm not telling you to drop everything and make friends with the Russians. I just want you to be careful. You need options, and those Army guys aren't going to be friendly forever. It's always good to have a backup plan, right? Who better to take on an army than an army?"

Ross pondered what Daniel had said for a moment. He closed his eyes and lowered his head for a moment. His scowl grew deeper with each second passed. Daniel felt like hours had passed before he looked up. His face and voice were still solemn, but his words were coated with his usual playful sting.

"If anyone else tried this same shit, I'd think they were bat-shit crazy."

"I am bat-shit crazy."

Ross nodded and cracked a small smirk.

"Yeah, I can see that."

Ross waved his arm toward the door. Daniel took this as his signal to leave. He opened the door and gestured at Brutus to follow him. Brutus stepped outside the office.

"Danny," Ross called out.

Daniel stopped short and turned to face him.

"Don't think you're off the hook for this."

Daniel lowered his eyes and nodded meekly before leaving the office. He quietly closed the door behind him and let out a heavy sigh of relief. After taking a moment to calm down, he led Brutus to the Red Line.


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: In Memoriam

Daniel opened his eyes. The light glinting off the concrete ceiling caused him discomfort. He squinted and held his hand in front of his face to block the light. He wiped the sweat from his brow and pulled himself up. He sat on the edge of his bed, coming to rest with his elbows on his knees and his eyes on the floor. He noticed a break in the pattern of the cracked grey stone of his floor. Two small, black shoes attached to a pair of thin strips of denim crept up the legs of his chair. He didn't need to look up to know whose limbs they were.

"Good morning," Miyako said in her usual cheery voice.

Daniel ran his fingers through his hair and said, "Is it even morning?"

"It is. Don't you keep track?"

Daniel shook his head. The room stood silent for a moment before Miyako continued.

"You know, you talk in your sleep."

Daniel shook his head. Her voice softened.

"It sounds like you've been through a lot."

With a weak nod, Daniel said, "Haven't we all..."

Daniel stood up and took his coat from a hanger on the wall. Its usual musty odor was absent.

"You can stay here, if you want. I'm going to see if Ross needs me for anything."

Her tone changed to that of disappointment.

"That job again…"

"Yes, it is my job."

"Why? Why do you keep doing it?"

"I do it because it's my job."

"Can't someone else do it?"

"I'm not the only one that does it…"

"Then you don't have to anymore. Someone else can."

Daniel could hear the agitation in her voice.

"It doesn't work like that…"

Miyako stood up and clasped her hands around Daniel's. His instinctual reaction made him think to pull his hands away, but he didn't. Instead, his arms tensed up and her eyes snatched hold of his. He felt a wave of both comfort and contrition hit him.

Miyako's choice of words only served to feed his guilt, "I didn't understand much because you were mumbling, but you sounded strained, like you were in a lot of pain. Whatever you do on that job…"

She paused for a moment and looked away. Daniel could see she was trying to choose gentle words for his sake.

"Whatever you do on that job is only going to hurt you more. One of these days, it might even kill you."

Daniel pulled his hands away from hers.

"One of these days, it will."

"Aren't you afraid? Aren't you scared of dying?"

Daniel suddenly became agitated and raised is voice.

"Why do you think I haven't yet? I should've died a long time ago, but every time it comes close, I run away! I'm a fuckin' coward!"

Daniel realized he had become irrationally angry, and calmed himself down. Miyako didn't say anything to him about it. She didn't seem threatened by his aggressiveness, but the concern behind her eyes only grew.

"Look, I'm not going to be out there working today, alright? No one is. The memorial service is today."

"And what about tomorrow?"

Daniel couldn't find a clear answer for her. He let his arms drop to his sides as he shrugged his shoulders and took a step backward.

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, I guess."

Miyako didn't say anything further. The look on her face pleaded to Daniel, begging him not to leave. Without anything else to say, Daniel quietly left the room, slowly closing the door behind him as he did.

Daniel shoved his hands into his pants pockets and walked carelessly toward the shuttle to Square station. The halls were nearly empty, save for a few mops sticking out of buckets filled with murky water or chemical sponges covered with chalky, black gunk. The only noise Daniel could hear was the faint murmur of the crowd in the residential district above him. Daniel playfully kicked a sponge lying in the middle of the hallway aside. It tumbled and bounced a few times before coming to rest beside the wall. The splotches of soot that coated the walls had all but vanished. Daniel was startled by the occasional person or two, all of whom breezed past him without a word. When Daniel reached the platform, he was greeted by several empty railcars lined up on the tracks, single-file. Deducing that he would not be getting a ride, he decided to walk. He meandered through the tunnel while whistling a song. He couldn't recall the name or lyrics of the song, but he remembered the tune rather well. It was boisterous and upbeat. Daniel caught himself walking with a bounce in his step. He looked around to make sure no one had seen him before continuing with a more solemn stride. Daniel strolled through the empty halls of Square station. He passed through the common area. Daniel found the still air suffocating. He peeked into the Armory as he walked past. The lights were on, but there wasn't a single person inside. Daniel finally reached Ross' office door. The guard at the table nearby took one look at Daniel before letting his head droop down again. Daniel banged on the door a couple of times.

"Yeah?" Daniel heard Ross shout from behind the door.

Daniel opened the door and stepped inside.

"Looks like everyone's waiting on you," Daniel said, "You about ready?"

Ross dropped a piece of paper he was holding onto his desk. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed heavily.

"Yeah, as I'll ever be."

"Nervous?"

"A bit. I always hate talkin' in front of big crowds."

"Then tell someone else to do it," Daniel said sarcastically, "You are our glorious leader, after all, aren't you?"

Ross let out a soft chuckle. Seeing that his joke helped to lighten Ross' mood elevated Daniel's as well.

"Telling people what to do is the easy part. It's keeping them happy that's tough."

"Not much to be happy about these days, huh?"

Ross walked to Daniel and stood in front of him. He rest his hand on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel could feel his grip tighten slightly, as if trying to send some kind of deeper feeling across. He lowered his head level with Daniel's and looked straight into his eyes.

"There's enough," he said in a low, stern voice.

"Beer and hookers, don't really count, Ross."

Ross scowled at first, but quickly covered it up with a laugh.

"Says you!" he chuckled before changing the subject, "Your little friends ever pick up that book?"

"No, but I can't imagine they'd wait much longer to."

"Good; the quicker they're gone, the better."

There was a knock on the door. Ross glanced up at it.

"We're gonna be late," he said hurriedly, "We should head out."

Daniel nodded before opening the door. He waited for Ross to exit the office and close the door before accompanying him and the guard to Grand Station's residential area. Even from the connecting tunnel, Daniel could hear the gathering. Their chatter sounded almost like whispers in the tunnel. As they drew closer, the noise grew louder. Daniel listened intently to try and pick up on when the difference in sound level changed until they began climbing the stairs to the hall. As they did, the sounds from the crowd suddenly exploded. The piercing blare caused Daniel discomfort. As Ross crested the top of the staircase, the crowd gradually died down.

"The King's here," Daniel heard someone grunt from the crowd, "Quiet down."

A few resonant voices wiggled through the air loud enough for Daniel to hear, as well as more than a few _Shut the hell up!_'s trying to quiet them down. Daniel and the Peacemaker took their places, closing the gap in a line of officers to another flight of stairs leading to the second floor, while Ross continued up. Daniel leaned against the handrail on his elbow. Ross stopped on a balcony halfway up the staircase. He rest his hands on the guardrail and leaned on it. He stood at his podium and waited. While the crowd tried to quiet itself, Daniel took a look at the room around him. Aside from the occasional wooden and sheet-metal shack, all Daniel could see were the heads of people. Tents or anything sturdy enough to be moved were either packed away or shoved to the walls, out of the way. As prominently as ever, the Jewel stood above the blob of people, its murky, gray-white faces shimmering in the dim light.

After the last few hushed voices had died down, Ross' voice echoed through the room, "I know that many of you have lost people before. I know that losing people is nothing new to us."

He paused for a moment, perhaps for dramatic tension or to remember what he had written down before. Daniel wasn't sure.

Ross' voice once again rippled through the air, if a bit quieter, "But I know that losing someone is never easy."

He paused again and took a long breath.

"Those we lost were good men and women. They were our friends, our lovers, and our rivals… but above all, they were our family."

Ross took a long pause again. It didn't seem like he had forgotten what he said. He looked at the crowd for a moment. Daniel couldn't see his face. Daniel could hear low, restrained sobs coming from the crowd. The Peacemaker beside Daniel was gripping the barrel of his Carbine tightly and had a look of distress and anger on his face.

"I don't know every one of your names. I've never sat down and had a meal with most of you. But the people you lost; the family you won't ever get to see again… they were my family too. The pain you feel, deep in your gut, when you think of what that _thing_ took from you… I feel it too. I'm sure we all feel it. All of us here in Grand Square feel your pain because all of us have lost family."

Ross paused quickly to take a breath and project his voice more.

"What we went through is a tragedy that shook every platform of every tunnel. Every station it passed through before ours was wiped out. People thought it was just a ghost story. They thought those station went quiet because of equipment failure, but they were wrong. It was another harsh reality of our world. There isn't a single person who hasn't heard about what happened by now. There isn't a single person out there who doesn't know how dangerous that thing is."

Ross' tone shifted and became slightly aggressive, almost angry.

"Some have started calling the thing 'Thor's Hammer.' It's fine to put a name to it, I guess, but I don't think it's the right one. Because whatever that thing was, it wasn't made by any god. No, that thing was a monster. But because of what that monster did to us, no one else has to lose their loved ones. The sacrifices of ours weren't in vain."

His voice shifted again, this time to a brighter, but more sullen tone.

"If I can find comfort in anything, it's that. They died and became heroes; that's how I'll always remember them."

Ross lowered his head and stepped back from his stage. As he walked down the stairs, the crowd surged forward to greet him at the bottom. One by one, with tears in their eyes, people looked to him for condolences and support.

"I remember the face," Ross would respond with a sad smile, "It's good to have a name to put with it."

Each exchange was unique, yet exactly the same. Some would cry and he would cry with them, while others would try to laugh with the recollection of a fond memory and he would laugh with them. Thinking back to that day made Daniel's back ache and the roar of the crowd made his head hurt. He decided to return home. He patted Ross' shoulder before walking past toward the staircase leading back into the station.


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Quiet

"I'd like couple buns," Roy said to a man behind a wooden counter.

"Sorry, man. I'm all outta buns. I got buns, though, if you want 'em?" the man running the bakery said.

"No, buns won't be good enough. What about buns? You got any buns?"

"Ah, sorry, buddy! Fresh outta buns, too. Tell ya what, though, just pulled a fresh batch of buns outta the oven. How about that?"

Roy put his hand of his chin and buried himself in thought for a moment.

"Maybe… a last resort, at least. You wouldn't happen to have buns, would you?"

"Try again next week. I got a guy bringin' me in a whole load of buns."

"I'll make sure I come by then. Save a few buns for me."

"Can do, my friend. So, you want those buns?"

"Nah, I'll take some buns instead."

"Comin' right up!"

The baker disappeared behind his counter for a moment before returning with two large balls of bread on a plate.

"What do I owe ya?"

"Four Head-crackers."

Roy pulled four shiny bullets from his pocket and traded them for the food.

"You got jelly too?"

"On the tables."

"Alright, thanks a bunch."

"Anytime! Oh, and let your old man know my wife wants to have you guys over for dinner sometime to celebrate your new job."

"I'll tell him."

Roy gestured with a quick, relaxed salute using his index and middle fingers and a smile before heading toward Daniel's table with the buns. He placed the plate at the center of the table and took a seat across from Daniel.

"Want some?" Roy asked while he pulled a jar filled with purple goop to his side of the table.

Daniel shook his head.

"Suit yourself. More for me!"

Daniel watched as Roy greedily pulled a bun from the plate and ripped it in half with his thumbs. He took a spoon from a cup on the table and scooped a puddle of slime from the jelly jar. He smeared jelly across the innards of the bun before clamping the two halves closed. As he bit into it, Daniel could see the purple muck leaking from the crease in the bread. The thought of eating grape jam made Daniel's insides churn. The last time he had eaten anything with grape jelly on it, he vomited it up almost immediately. No matter how many times Ross tells him the sandwich was irradiated, and no matter how right Ross may be, Daniel refused to let himself so much as smell the stuff. Daniel caught a glimpse of someone walking toward him out of the corner of his right eye. He looked up to meet the man's eyes. After making contact, the man adopted a more confident posture and walked to the table.

"Are you the Prophet?" the man asked timidly.

Daniel could hardly hear him over the usual blaring sound of the Mess Hall crowd, but he nodded.

"I've got a couple of messages for you."

Daniel sat up to indicate he was paying attention.

"The first is that the King is looking for you."

Daniel nodded. The man waited a moment before continuing.

"And, uh… Mr. Marín asked me to get something from you."

Daniel nodded again and stuck his hand under his coat to retrieve the journal. He slid the book up and out of his pocket, then handed it to the man.

"I'll let him know you came through."

The man nodded in farewell, then walked around Daniel's table before disappearing into the sea of faces. Daniel stood up from the table and walked to the bakery counter. Before Daniel could even get the man's attention, the baker picked up a small pastry and placed it in front of him.

"One chocolate cupcake, easy on the icing," the man said with a smile.

Daniel reached into his pocket and grabbed hold of his bullets.

The man placed his hand on Daniel's shoulder and spoke softly, "It's on the house. You come here every year to get the same thing and I've gotten a ton of business because a celebrity like you is a repeat customer, so I'll say that's payment enough for this time."

The man's smile was warm. Daniel wished he could share that warmth. Daniel nodded his head and carefully scooped the fragile treat up with his hands. He nodded once more to the man before turning and leaving. He held the cupcake close to his body as he walked through the station, taking extra care not to bump into anyone. The treacherous maneuvers he made as he squeezed through the Commons had him grinding his teeth. Each step became a hazard and his arms tensed up as if he were keeping a precious glass sculpture from falling over. Children brushed past him as they played their games, completely oblivious of Daniel's distress. An inebriated man nearly stumbled into Daniel several times before he finally fell through a bathroom door. After finally reaching Ross' office with fragile cargo yet unharmed, Daniel breathed a sigh of relief and let himself relax. As he approached the door, it swung open, and a man in an Army uniform erupted out of the office. His posture was dignified, but still very much agitated. As he passed, Daniel caught a glimpse of the golden clover-like insignia on his shoulder.

As the man stormed past, Daniel could hear Ross shouting, "Yeah, you tell your Colonel to get his head out of his ass before he starts barking orders at me!"

Ross disappeared back into his office. Daniel wandered through the open door. He could see a plump man sitting in a chair, facing Ross' desk while Ross was sifting through his liquor cabinet.

Daniel could hear Stick's gravelly voice as he drew closer to the office, "That guy's a piece of work, eh?"

Daniel could hear Ross complaining from out of view, "Who, Diaz? The guy's an asshole, but at least he isn't stupid. I'd rather he be in charge of the Army, but instead I'm stuck dealing with that idiot Caul…"

Daniel stood in the doorway as he listened to his friend vent.

"It took him two weeks to send someone to Penn station. You believe that? By the time he did, more of those crazies had taken the place over, so he's dumping it on me again and all I can think to do is send a few Hunters there to guard the place."

"That ain't a good long term fix though, is it?"

"Yeah, tell me about it. On top of that, I gotta deal with human trafficking up north, too."

"Again?"

"Right? I thought we sorted this shit out already. I guess I can send Danny to check it out. At least then something'll actually get done."

Ross had decided on a bottle of alcohol and placed it on his desk along with two glasses. He was just about to take his seat behind his desk when he noticed Daniel standing in the doorway.

"Speak of the devil and he will appear. Perfect timing, buddy; I was just about to call you."

Ross started toward Daniel.

"I got a job… for…"

Ross' sentence slowly trailed off when he glanced at Daniel's heavy face and the item in his hands. Ross stepped back behind his desk and opened a drawer. He pulled a small pink candle out and handed it to Daniel. It was short, not longer than any of Daniel's fingers, and it had a white spiral design that stretched up the length of it. After handing him the candle, Ross took a step backward.

"It can wait until tomorrow."

Daniel nodded once, then slipped the candle into his pocket. He cradled the cupcake closely, then left the office. Steeling himself, he charged through the gauntlet of people once more and returned to his home. As he walked into his room, he felt a sense of safety rush through him, as if he had just passed through a barrier erected to protect just his room. He carefully placed the precious pastry on his desk and pulled the candle from his pocket. He looked at it for a moment and gave it a slight frown. He gently pierced the icing and cupcake's top with the bottom of the candle until it was firmly in place. He reached into his pocket for his lighter, but failed to find it. He searched his other pockets, to no avail. All he could find was lint and ammunition. He eventually found it next to his larger candle while sifting through his drawers. He struck the light and lit the candle he had used to impale the cupcake. The light it struggled to hold was more of an ember than a flame, but it burned steadily nonetheless. Daniel pulled his chair against the wall opposite his desk and sat down. He watched the flame flicker and dance for a while. The blank expression on his face didn't change, even after he had heard a knock on the door. It sounded so distant, like it hadn't come from his door at all. He could only focus on that cupcake and on that flame. Someone walked between him and the cupcake, severing the spell it had entranced him with. He watched Ross sit down on his bed and look at the cupcake with sad eyes.

Ross spoke so softly that Daniel could hardly hear him, "Happy birthday, kid. I know you hate pink, but it's the only one I could find. At least your brother got you your favorite treat, though, right?"

Daniel turned his attention back to the cupcake. He thought back to each of memory he had of her birthday, hoping to find a smile. No matter how many times he tried to force himself elsewhere, each memory slipped back to Union. Each and every time, he was met with empty eyes. Daniel and Ross both sat there, bathed in the light from Miyako's gaudy lamp, and stared at the cupcake. Daniel and Ross both sat there, drowned in total silence. Daniel sat there, choking on his failures.


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Mouse

Roy sat in his seat and patiently listened to Daniel's lecture. The rhythmic clacking of the wheels on the tracks battled for control of the space, but Daniel's words still reached him. Daniel held up his small, yellow Medikit box.

"You know what these are?" Daniel asked, trying to raise his voice over noise of the tunnel.

Roy nodded, "I think so."

"I'll run through it anyway. This is a Medikit."

Daniel popped the box open, revealing five small syrettes strapped to the inside.

"These little things are painkillers. They're what'll keep you on your feet if you get banged up."

"Why don't we carry more of them? Wouldn't it be better to have more?"

"If you need just one, it's time to turn tail and get the fuck outta dodge. Most people can only take five before they die anyway."

Roy's face wrinkled into a look of surprise and concern.

"Die?"

"These things are full of just morphine and some kind of steroid or something. Any more than five and your heart might just quit out on you. They're just to keep you moving long enough to get some real first-aid."

Daniel closed the box and stuffed it back into his front breast pocket.

"Just be careful how much you use and you could easily limp down the Red Line with a broken leg and a half-dozen chunks clawed out of your arms. Just ask your old man."

Daniel gestured to Stick, who was sitting beside Roy and operating the cart. Roy looked at him with wide-eyed curiosity.

Stick snorted, "I don't recommend it. It ain't fun."

"You really did that?"

"Your old man was a total badass. Did he ever tell you he jumped off the Empire State building?"

Roy's eyes beamed at Stick, begging him to tell the story.

"Now you got him all excited. It wasn't that big a deal."

"You literally jumped off the Empire State. How is that not a big deal?"

Stick didn't answer. He averted his focus back to the tunnel ahead. Daniel turned back to Roy and leaned on his knees. Roy leaned close and listened excitedly.

"We got stuck way up on the Empire State, right where it divides, doing a job. We got cornered by a few Howlers on the way up. So, he had Ross and me tie some rope to a support and hide. He grabbed the rope and baited the Howlers into following him off the side of the building. All of them just hopped right off the edge! We had to be forty or so stories up, so if that rope broke, he'd be a hundred times thinner than he is now. He was called 'Evil Torini' for a while after that."

"The King was a Stalker too?" Roy gasped.

"Yeah," Stick grumbled, "A real loud-mouthed one, too."

"How did all you guys meet?"

"I met the King back when we were in the Army together. We were Rangers."

"And you, Dan?"

"Ross and I worked together a long time ago," Daniel reminisced, "Back before the war."

"Were you a soldier too?"

"Pfft…"

The cart began to slow as Stick squeezed the brake lever.

"Here's your stop," He said over the dim squealing of metal scraping against metal.

When the cart came to a stop, Daniel and Roy stood up and hopped off, onto the grimy tunnel ground and continued in the direction they had been riding.

"Get it done and come home quick," Stick called out, "Don't make your mother worry too much."

With rather exaggerated gestures, Roy responded, "I'll be back faster than you can say 'Aaaahh! Tabby!'"

"Remember to call me on that radio I gave you if you need help."

"You worry too much, Pop. I'll be with the Prophet!"

"That's what I'm worried about. He's got the worst damned luck."

Roy smirked and signaled to Stick with his usual relaxed salute before hurrying to catch up with Daniel. Daniel slipped on his helmet and mask as he walked along the train tracks and listened as the clacking of the cart wheels grew progressively quieter. He and Roy walked until they came upon a derelict boarding platform. After turning on his flashlight and scanning the station, Daniel noticed signs of conflict. Bits of the concrete were charred and shattered. He could see tiny holes in the walls and floor. He noticed a huge black splotch spread across the ground. As he followed it toward its center he made out the form of a human body.

Daniel knelt beside the body and examined it further. The coat that clung to its torso was shredded across the chest. Daniel tried to pull the coat apart to get a closer look at the damage. It didn't make the normal cracking sound Daniel was used to when picking apart the frozen corpses. Rather, it made a sloshy sound, almost like a wet towel being squeezed. Daniel pulled his hand up into the light. His fingers were lightly coated with a slimy, red-black goo. Daniel looked down and noticed the puddle he was crouched in had not completely dried either. Daniel quickly rose to his feet and yanked his Carbine to his shoulder.

"Gun up, Roy," He ordered in a hushed tone.

Daniel quickly glued his shoulder to the wall and crept alongside it. He kept his flashlight off, only flicking it on, then quickly back off again to check any shadows too dark to see through as they moved past. He shined his light at the end of the platform opposite where he and Roy had come in. A giant metal wall, similar to the ones that blocked the windows in Grand Central, blocked the way through. He moved to the staircase, only getting a little past halfway up before letting his Carbine dangle on the sling and slipping his pistol from its holster. He pointed at the top of the stairs, looking back at Roy to make sure he understood the meaning. Roy stopped and crouched low while keeping the barrel of his gun pinned to the top of the steps. Daniel stepped onto the railing of the staircase and gripped the ledge of the next floor. He peeked his head and pistol up, and quickly scanned the area. After he was sure it was safe to proceed, he stepped down from the railing, replaced his pistol in its holster, and pulled his rifle back to his shoulder before signaling Roy to follow. Daniel climbed the stairs, still gazing past the railing and straining to detect any movement.

The duo reached the next floor and quickly ducked behind a turnstile. Daniel peered deeper into the station. He watched as a man crawled out from behind a corner. He eventually crawled far enough into the light to reveal the trail of blood that followed behind him. The man collapsed, rolled onto his back, and clutched a wound on his torso; likely only one of many.

"Come on, you motherfucker!" the man growled weakly.

An enormous quadrupedal creature emerged from the shadows. Its head was fat and round. Its ears were lopped and folded, while also pulled slightly down and back, making it look slightly saddened; as if the creature felt remorse for what it had planned to do. Its coat was thrashed and bloodied, though its dark orange-brown fur gleaned in the light. The once white fur on its paws was stained red from standing in the blood of its prey. It slowly and almost cautiously approached the weakened man.

Daniel heard Roy readying his rifle beside him. Almost instinctively, Daniel grabbed the end of the rifle and forced it upward to prevent Roy from firing.

"Don't you dare!" Daniel hissed.

Roy hissed back, "You're just going to watch this? We have to do something!"

"And what are you gonna do, huh? Distract it long enough for him to bleed out? Let it eat you so it's too full to eat him? There isn't anything we _can_ do."

Roy's face drooped and his shoulders slumped as he relaxed his grip on his rifle.

"We can't just sit here and watch…"

"That's exactly what we're going to do. It doesn't matter if we manage to kill that thing; he's fucked either way."

Roy's whispers were shallow and shivered with a defeated tone.

"So, what? We just let people die out here?"

"In a situation like this? Absolutely."

Daniel released Roy's gun and turned his attention back to the Tabby. Roy rest his head against the turnstile and stared at the floor. His fists were clenched and he was breathing through his teeth. The Tabby towered over the enfeebled man. Most of his strength had dribbled out of him as the trail that followed him through the hall. He used what little energy he had left to taunt the giant cat.

Daniel could hear him whimpering, "Just fucking end it already, you ugly monster…"

The man lifted his head and arm aggressively, but weakly at the creature. It quickly jerked backward for a moment in surprise, but soon started toward the man again. His arm dangled back and forth in a pathetic attempt to fight it off. The Tabby reached its neck down and opened its mouth. Saliva dripped from its four gigantic canine teeth. As it closed its gaping mouth around the man's head, the monstrous butcher knives slid through his skull. His arm ceased its futile struggling and sagged to the ground. The Tabby released its grip on the man's head and let the body flop to the floor. It stood over the body for a moment as it licked the blood from its chops. It wasn't long before its interest wandered elsewhere and it vanished back into the darkness of the station. Daniel and Roy squatted in the darkness for a moment before Daniel turned to Roy and scolded him.

"Next time, you don't get to look away like that," he whispered harshly, "You need to know exactly where that thing is. You don't get to take your eyes off it for even a second, got it?"

Roy didn't lift his head. He nodded, causing his helmet to rub against the back of his hand.

After a moment of watching Roy sulk, Daniel tried to console him, "Look, I know it's shitty, but you need to learn that you can't save everybody. Your old man wouldn't ever forgive me if I let anything happen to you."

Roy strained whispering scratched at Daniel's ears, "We just let him die…"

"No, we didn't. That Tabby killed him."

"We could have helped!"

"It would have killed him the moment it knew we were here."

Roy's hand tightened into a fist. He struggled to stifle his grunting, but a few quiet sobs still escaped.

Daniel glanced back toward the Tabby's fresh kill before urging Roy, "We need to get going; keep an eye out for it. I'm gonna move up a bit."

Roy lifted his mask and wiped his sleeve across his face while nodding his head. Daniel crawled under the metal bars of the turnstile and slowly inched toward the body. The crimson puddle surrounding it slowly grew larger as Daniel moved closer. He pressed his shoulder to the edge of the corner leading further into the station. He quickly flashed his light on then off to get a look into the station, but didn't see any sign of the monster in the hallway. He squatted next to the body in the puddle, making sure to keep his pants from touching it. His boots made quiet squeaking sounds as they disturbed the slimy liquid. He placed his hand on the dead man's shoulder and leaned closer. The light of the over-head lamp glinted off his gasmask. Daniel could see the man's empty eyes through the visor. Daniel lifted the man's visor and slid his hand across the man's face with his free hand.

Daniel whispered while pushing the man's eyes closed, "Go with God…"

Daniel was suddenly knocked onto his back by a cracking sound, followed by the racket of gunfire. The bullets snapped the air above his head apart as they sliced past him. He quickly dove backward toward Roy and lifted his eyes in time to watch the Tabby's tail whip back into the darkness. The sound of the massive beast's paws thumping against the concrete as it darted down the hallway rattled against his ears.

"You good?" Roy called out from behind the turnstile.

"Yeah," Daniel answered, "I'm good."

Roy vaulted over the turnstile and hurried to Daniel. He helped Daniel get back on his feet.

"What do we do now?"

"We get to the surface and run like hell. Reload and filter up."

Roy released the spent magazine from his rifle and replaced it with a full one. Daniel stuck a filter into his gasmask and spun it into place before setting the timer on his watch.

"What if that thing catches us again?"

"We pray to God it doesn't charge us. If it does, we shoot at it."

Roy nodded and twisted a filter into the slot on his gasmask. Daniel switched on his flashlight and lit up the corridor ahead of them.

"And try to make sure I'm not in the way next time, huh?"

Roy nodded while he set the timer on his watch.

"Should we be wasting filters like this?"

"It's always better to be prepared."

Daniel held his Carbine against his shoulder and pointed it down the hallway before creeping toward the wall. He pressed his shoulder against the wall and walked through the hallway, taking care to step over the small, red pool. Roy followed behind him and mimicked his movements. As he sidled along the wall, he strained intently to detect any sign of the monster. The silence nipped his ear lobes and caused his shoulders to tense up. He thoroughly scanned every inch of his path, expecting the Tabby to pounce with every step. He tried to control his breathing, but the harder he tried to focus, the harder his lungs pushed against his ribs. He could feel a bead of sweat tickling his temple as he approached a blind turn, but ignored it and kept his hands tightly clutched to his rifle. He could hear the Tabby's menacing feline growl coming from around the corner.

After taking a moment to ready himself, Daniel pointed his rifle around the corner and pulled the trigger. His gun shook wildly as it sprayed the darkness with lead and smoke. The blasting noise and flaring light of the gun's muzzle conquered the air around him. He spent a little over a third of the ammunition in his magazine before he stopped firing. He held his position behind the wall and listened intently, but was met with silence. He poked his head around the corner and sent the beam from his flashlight to flood the corridor. The Tabby was nowhere in sight.

Daniel reloaded his rifle, placing his half-spent magazine in a pocket separate from the others, and continued through the station. As he walked deeper into the darkness, his fingers began to twitch and his knees began to have trouble keeping him upright. The Tabby's feral growling once again vibrated through his head. Coming to another corner, he pressed his back to the wall and blindly fired his weapon around the corner. Once again, fire and smog overpowered the air around him. After firing off a third of his magazine again, he quickly peeked his head around the corner. After seeing another empty hallway, he replaced the magazine in his rifle with a new one. He turned the corner and focused his flashlight forward.

The sight of two large blue lights hovering above the ground made him stop dead in his tracks. The pair of dazzling sapphires were embedded in the head of the Tabby that was crouched low to the ground. Daniel's body was frozen, but his mind was on fire. His thoughts shot through his mind one after another, struggling to find a way out of the situation. They smashed into each other, each one trying to become his course of action. However, he wasn't given ample time to make a decision, as the Tabby had leapt forward with a hiss. It charged toward him with blinding speed. He settled on the first thought that had managed to push above the others: clench. He squeezed the grip of his rifle; coincidently causing his finger to squeeze the trigger. His rifle spit out flames as the bullets were propelled toward the Tabby. The bullets shredded the air around it, but the Tabby didn't lose its momentum and pounced at him. In the short moments he had before the monster fell upon him, Daniel quickly grabbed the barrel of his gun and swung it forward. Somewhere along its arch, he grabbed the butt stock of the Carbine and shoved it forward at the Tabby. He lodged it across the Tabby's mouth, barring it from closing its mouth completely and giving him just enough leverage to hold it back. However, its monstrous weight was still too much for Daniel and toppled him. The Tabby used the advantage to pin Daniel to the ground. Daniel pushed against the creature's overpowering strength with all his might, but its giant skewer-like teeth drew gradually closer to his face. As it snarled, its saliva sprayed across Daniel's visor.

"Kill it!' Daniel squealed, "Roy, kill it!"

Daniel watched the barrel of Roy's gun as it was shoved against the side of the Tabby's head before erupting violently. The gun roared as each bullet exploded from the barrel and tore through the Tabby's thick skull. Roy expended all of the ammunition in his magazine. At some point the Tabby had gone limp, but Daniel wasn't sure when that was. As soon as the creature ceased struggling against him and Roy had spent the last of his bullets, Daniel pushed it off himself and clamored away from the encroaching puddle of blood, resting his back against the wall behind him a fair distance away. He took deep, strained breaths and tried to recuperate the strength he had just used.

"Roy," Daniel wheezed after recovering a bit, "What the fuck took you so long?"

"You were in the way!' Roy huffed, also winded from the experience, "Aw, man… I think I just shit myself…!"

Without the energy to scold him, Daniel grumbled to himself quietly.

"My old man was right, though; you've got the worst damned luck."

"You can both… Go fuck yourselves…"

Daniel untwisted the filter in his gasmask with shaky hands and slipped it into an empty pocket on his thigh before pausing the timer on his watch.

"Are we not going up to the surface now?"

"There's no point with this thing dead."

"Huh…"

Roy removed the filter from his mask and placed it in a pocket on his vest. Daniel had regained most of his strength and got up into a crouch. He slipped his backpack off and placed it in front of him before sifting through the pockets. Roy watched him intently. Daniel removed two plastic sandwich baggies and a pair of rubber gloves from his bag before leaning it against the wall. He took off his leather gloves and placed them beside his bag. He rolled up his sleeves and put the gloves on before sliding his knife out of its scabbard. He picked up his rifle and pointed it at the Tabby. He shot it twice more in the head. The only sign of movement it showed was from the force of the bullets' impact. Satisfied with its show of lifelessness, Daniel rest his rifle against his backpack before squatting beside the monster.

He pulled open its mouth and peered inside quizzically. He studied the monster's teeth closely before finally pulling his knife to one of its upper canine teeth. He meticulously carved the shape of the tooth through its gums before pulling on it and wrenching it loose. He placed the massive tooth on the concrete beside him and adjusted his position to be able to reach the other side of the Tabby's head. As he did with the first tooth, he began to carve its other upper canine tooth out. After successfully pulling the tooth from the monster's head, he picked them both up and crouched beside his bag. He pulled the rubber gloves off and tossed them aside. He grabbed one of the sandwich bags and opened it up. He pinched the tip of one of the teeth and shook off as many loose droplets of blood that clung to it as he could before dropping it into the baggie. He squeezed any excess air out before sealing it shut and doing the same for the other tooth. After he was finished, he put his leather gloves back on and unraveled his sleeves. After pulling his rucksack and Carbine to their proper place on his back, he presented one of the teeth to Roy.

"What's with this?" Roy asked as he took the baggie.

"You killed a monster," Daniel answered, "You deserve a trophy."

Daniel slipped his tooth into a side pouch on his bag. Roy glanced back and forth between the tooth in his hands and the Tabby with shimmering eyes. He failed to hide the grin that spilled across his face.

"I can't wait to tell my old man!"

After checking to be sure he and Roy had all their belongings and their baggies were sealed up tight, they started through the station to bypass the wall that blocked the tunnel.

"Can you teach me to pull out their teeth like that too?"

"Not a fuckin' chance."

"Aw, come on! Why not?"

Daniel and Roy bickered quietly as they walked through the empty station.


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Operation

Daniel and Roy wandered through the dark, leaky tunnel. Daniel's arms and legs started to feel heavy, but he forced himself to trudge onward.

"Hey Dan," Roy called out.

Daniel hadn't realized Roy had lagged behind and looked back. He saw Roy crouched beside a hole in the ground with fluorescent, green liquid pooling at the bottom of it. He felt a tickling sting on the back of his neck as he suddenly broke into a sprint toward Roy.

"What is this stu-"

Roy was cut off by Daniel grabbing the back of his collar and flinging him backward, away from the puddle. Daniel pinned Roy to the ground and began searching his clothes. He grabbed Roy's arm and splashed his light across it. After a moment, he released it and did a similar motion on each part of Roy's body, paying extra attention to his hands and arms.

"Did you touch it?" Daniel asked, practically shouting.

"No, man! I didn't!"

Daniel finally released Roy and stood up. Roy stood up and brushed the dirt off the back of his pants.

Daniel looked back at the green goo and lectured Roy, "Don't ever go near that stuff! You got that?"

"Why, what is it?" Roy asked as he finished dusting himself off.

"Seriously fucked radioactive death. This one is the reason we can't use the water from the rivers."

Roy detached the personal Geiger counter on his belt and held it close to the edge of the hole. As he pushed it closer to the puddle, it began to click louder and faster.

"Shouldn't we have filters in, then?"

"No, you can tell when you need a filter because you wouldn't be able to breathe otherwise. Most of the air in the tunnels is safe. You can actually find a lot of safe buildings up there, too."

Roy hooked the Geiger counter back onto his belt.

"So, what happens if you touch this stuff?"

"It sucks out all your energy and makes you feel like you're gonna puke. It's like it melts and freezes your insides all at the same time. It's like little bugs crawling under your skin, eating you from the inside, out."

Roy quickly took another step away from the puddle.

"So, we just avoid it?"

Daniel nodded.

"Anyone that works outside the stations knows to stay far away from it."

The sudden rush of energy trickled out of Daniel's body before he realized it. He pulled his mask up and rubbed his eyes before he began walking through the tunnel again. Roy quickly caught up and followed.

"You alright, Dan? You look tired."

"I'm always tired."

"Should we stop and take a break?"

Roy stopped suddenly and started to look around.

"Did you hear that?"

"No? Hear what?"

"Like someone whispering. It sounded like it came from behind us…"

An intense, white light suddenly flooded the tunnel.

"Hands up!" someone from behind the glaring light shouted.

"Didn't think we were this close…" Daniel whispered to himself.

Daniel squinted to shield his eyes from the bright spotlight beaming onto him and Roy.

"Do what he says," Daniel mumbled to Roy as he raised his arms.

Roy did as instructed and raised his hands into the air.

"What do you want?"

Daniel sucked his teeth.

"A pair of sunglasses. What, are you new?"

"Alright, wise guy…"

"What are you doing?" another man yelled from behind the light, "Kill that light, already!"

The lights shut off abruptly. Daniel quickly recovered from the mild flash-blindness with a low growl. Daniel could see two men standing on a station boarding platform. One was holding his hand in the air. Daniel and Roy climbed the small set of stairs onto the platform.

"So," the shorter man with a gun in his hands barked, "What are you guys doing here?"

The taller man turned and shoved him.

"Bro," he snapped, "You need to go cool off!"

The short guard stopped for a moment before grimacing and disappearing into the station while muttering to himself. The remaining guard turned to Daniel.

"You guys from Square?"

Daniel nodded.

"I'll get the boss. Gimme a second."

With that, he turned and vanished into the station. Daniel and Roy stood on the edge of the platform for a short while.

"What was with that guy?" Roy whispered.

"No clue," Daniel said.

The guard returned, trailing just behind a stout-looking man. He had a fat face with a cigarette poking out from between his teeth, and a rather well-maintained head of short, wavy hair. His clothing looked to be made of quality material and clung to his rigid body, but still stank of the musty subway tunnels.

"Good evening, gentlemen," the man said, "What can I do ya for?"

"We're looking for passage through your station."

"I take it you're Square?"

"We are."

The man wrapped his fingers around his chin as a half of his mouth raised and his eyes narrowed. He tilted his head to one side and shifted his weight to one leg. The cigarette wagged back and forth in his mouth.

"Why should I let a Stalker through my station?"

"We can make it worth your trouble."

"Oh yeah? How, exactly, can you do that?"

Daniel raised his left hand in the air so the guard could clearly see it as the other wandered around behind him. He cautiously reached into a pouch on the side of his bag and slowly pulled the plastic baggy containing the Tabby tooth out. He held it out in front of him to show it to the imposing figure.

"You'll find it in 49th street station."

The man narrowed his eyes and hunched forward as he peered at the small plastic bag's contents. After examining the tooth for a moment, his face glinted with awe before he recollected his domineering posture and turned to face the other man behind him.

"Show them through. I need to make a call."

With that, he disappeared up a flight of stairs. The guard jerked his head to the side in a gesture for Daniel and Roy to follow him. Daniel turned around and noticed Roy staring into the tunnel behind them. He was staring into the darkness with glazed over eyes and a slack jawed expression.

"Roy," Daniel called to him, "Quit spacing out and let's go."

Daniel's voiced broke Roy's trance. He quickly shook off the sleepy face and jogged up to Daniel and the guard. As they walked through the station, the guard tried to drum up a conversation. Daniel sleepily humored the man.

"You guys ever been out this way before?" he chattered.

"Yeah, a long time ago," Daniel answered.

"Careful if you're going into the park. Lotta of Howlers out there lately."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"No prob, man. Happy to keep you surface boys kickin'. Time was, I was a Stalker, myself."

"Were you?"

"Yeah, busted up my leg pretty bad, so I just watch the halls around here now."

Daniel watched as a couple of men opened a refrigerator and pulled a few plastic bottles filled with water out before strolling past.

"You get a lot of trouble out here?"

"Didn't used to. Oh, hey, you guys got a radio?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You just reminded me; there's this new crew out on the Red Line. They don't like to play by the rules, if you catch my meaning."

"Stealing turf?"

"You guessed it. They just really like to fuck with any of us private guys."

Daniel thought back on the Russian spy he had met.

"They come way out here?"

"Caught a couple of them spyin' on us. Got 'em locked up now, though."

As the man said that, Daniel caught a glimpse of another guard escorting a couple of feeble-looking men bound in handcuffs into the station. Their disparaged faces pointed at the floor as they kept their heads low to avoid angering their captors.

"Don't look like bandits to me…"

"Ah, that's something else. I wouldn't worry about that."

One of the prisoners looked up at Daniel. The center of his brow lifted and his eyes shimmered weakly. The corners of his lips pulled backward and his mouth quivered open, as if he were trying to say something. Another guard stepped out from a wooden structure while fastening his belt tightly around his pants. He met up with the other guard before they shouted at the prisoners to continue walking.

"What are you guys out here for, anyway?"

Daniel tore his gaze away from the prisoners.

"Some old hunk of metal that some old guy says is valuable."

The man laughed.

"This city never changes, huh?"

The trio arrived at the mouth of the tunnel leading into the darkness of the subway. Daniel felt like he was looking into a wide and deep hole.

"There you go, guys. Take care of yourselves, huh?"

"You too."

The guard turned and wandered back into the station, leaving Daniel and Roy standing on the edge of the platform next to a grumpy-looking man sitting behind a low wall of sandbags, looking into the tunnel. Daniel stepped down onto the tracks and walked into the tunnel while turning on his flashlight. Roy followed suit and did the same. They walked a ways through the tunnel until the light of the station behind them disappeared behind a bend. Daniel suddenly felt a strong pressure gripping his neck as he lost control of his motor functions. His felt light-headed as he struggled to breathe. He could hear the sounds of a gun being cocked as he was forced to the ground. His arms were restrained behind his back and his light was turned off.

As the blood rushed back into his head and he regained his awareness, he heard voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Their words sounded slurred and rushed to Daniel. He could hear Roy grunting as he was also shoved onto the ground. Daniel could feel the barrel of a gun being pressed against the back of his neck. The struggle had mostly died down with Daniel intently listening to the quiet voices of people around him, trying to pick up any information he could. He thought it was severely broken English, but soon realized he wouldn't be able to understand what they were saying, no matter how hard he tried. One of the voices shushed the others and they all quickly died down. Daniel listened as the sound of boots disturbing the dirt drew closer until they sounded as though they had stopped beside Daniel's head. Daniel struggled to control his breathing and keep calm.

A voice squeezed his already straining ears with a heavy Russian accent, "Keep quiet and we won't kill you."

The assailants continued to talk amongst themselves. The foreign language nipping at his ears and his inability to pull any information pinched at Daniel's nerves. The total darkness scratching at his eyes coupled with the pressure on his back forcing him to the ground only furthered fueled his agitation. He gritted his teeth and growled weakly.

"Brutus," Roy called out quietly, "That's you, right?"

After a short pause, the voice responded, "How do you know that name?"

"We met in Union station, at that bar."

Daniel could heard Brutus speak in Russian before he heard the sound of plastic and fabric rubbing together.

"Well, I'll be damned. You're that kid that was with the Prophet."

"Not was; still am."

After a brief moment of silence, Daniel felt his gasmask being pulled off his face. While hearing the familiar name hit Daniel with a splash of relief, the blinding darkness still gnawed at his eyes. While he kept his voice hushed, Brutus failed to hide his glee.

"It really is you guys! It's great to see you again, my friend."

Daniel heard Brutus say something in Russian. The magic words dispelled the tremendous weight that had pinned Daniel to the ground.

After sitting up and shaking his gasmask back into place, Daniel spoke to the darkness, "Wish I could say the same. You greet all your friends like that?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Oh, don't use your light. We're on a mission here."

"Then, we never saw you."

Brutus chuckled.

"We do need to head through, though. Is that alright?"

"I suppose you could, unless you'd be willing to help us out for a moment."

"Sorry, but we have our own job to do right now."

Roy suddenly spoke up, "I'll help."

Roy's sudden declaration stunned Daniel for a moment, but he quickly regained his stern demeanor.

"No, Roy, you won't. We're already on a job for the King."

"Our job is to find out what these guys are up to, right? Besides, it beats sitting in the next station, doing nothing for an hour."

"We already know what they're doing; we saw hostages. If we go back in there, they'll know what _we_ are up to."

Daniel didn't hear Roy answer right away. He seemed to pause for a moment.

"Danny, what's your biggest fear?"

Roy's sudden change in topic was another jolt that caused Daniel to stutter.

"What?"

"What are you most afraid of?"

"What are you on about?"

"You know, mine is Diana's cooking. The crap she makes could kill anything."

"Roy, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"I can hear someone talking, in my head... 'The Brute will realize one of the Prophet's greatest fears.' I keep hearing it over and over again, like a broken record."

Roy paused for a moment. The darkness and moaning wind of the tunnel swirled around Daniel's head.

"You can go, if you want, but I'm staying."

Daniel didn't say anything. His mind was fixed onto the cryptic words Roy had just mentioned. Roy and Brutus began talking about their plan.

"So, what do you need me to do?"

"The plan was to have a couple of guys act like they wanted to join the bandits and keep the boss distracted while we sneak in and clear the station."

"I can do that."

"The only problem is if anyone comes along from the tracks. If no one is around, they'll get suspicious. None of my guys can really do that, though, and our window of opportunity might close before our Black Cat friends show up."

Daniel finally spoke up again, "You know your old man would kill me if I let you do something like this on your own."

"Danny, I already told you, you aren't going to stop me."

"Then if anything happens, it's your responsibility. I'll stay on the platform for you guys."

"Wouldn't it be better if I watched the platform and you talked with their boss?"

"Bandits don't like my face. Besides, you wouldn't know how to handle them."

Brutus' voice disturbed the darkness, "Hey, stick out your hand."

Daniel held his arm out in front of him with his palm facing upward. After a moment, something with significant weight was lowered onto his hand. He grasped it and pulled it to his other hand before caressing it and studying what it was.

"What is it? Binoculars?"

"Night vision. Consider it payment."

Daniel nodded.

"It's already a pain in the ass to use my monocular with the mask, but thanks. So, you guys got a real plan, or are you just gonna rush in and start shooting, Stalingrad style?"

Brutus laughed.

"No, nothing like that. Most of this gang is preoccupied with a cache of supplies the Black Cats conveniently lost to them at the south-east tip of the Central Park."

Daniel removed his helmet and fastened it to his belt. As he did so, he could hear Brutus explaining to Roy how to use the device. Daniel felt around the device until he found the front lenses of the goggles. Brutus began catching Daniel up on the details of his plan.

"We'll split into three teams. Four guys will clear the station, one will be with me, and two will stay here," he explained, "While my team sneaks in through a hole in the barricade in the other tunnel, you'll be our lookout on this track after the second team clears the platform. The last team will stay here and make sure no one sneaks up on us."

Daniel pulled the straps of the goggles over his head and switched them on. His eyes were suddenly assaulted by green light as the pitch-black darkness of the tunnel was washed away. After a moment, his eyes adjusted to the sharp light, allowing him to see.

"My team will take out their leader while the second team clears the hallways and secures hostages."

Daniel scanned the space around him and counted the helmets posted in the small alcove. Each man was set up on a corner so every direction was covered.

"Eight men isn't all that many for an assault like this."

"That's why were aren't assaulting it. Roy will keep their leader distracted long enough for us to bust in and take him out. If he doesn't know anything is wrong, he won't call all his friends. If we don't have to worry about his friends, we can clean up the house, nice and quiet."

Daniel looked at Roy. He had his hands tightly wrapped around the night vision goggles and was scanning the tunnel. His mouth hung open slightly, held up by the corners of his mouth, as stifled giggles and gasps escaped from it.

"Roy," Daniel called quietly.

Roy continued playing with his new goggles, "Danny, these things are sweet!"

Daniel placed his hand on top of Roy's head and held it still.

"Roy, I need you to pay attention. Are you going to be okay with that boss guy? You're gonna be all alone with no one to back you up if shit hits the fan."

Roy stood up straight, puffed out his chest, and slapped it with his palm.

"No sweat! I've been through worse."

Daniel muttered under his breath to himself, "Yeah… I've put you through worse."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. We're ready to go whenever you guys are."

Brutus held out a small earpiece and said, "Take this so you can keep in contact with me."

Daniel took the device in his hand.

"What is it?"

"A transceiver. Use it like a radio."

"Huh… I was about to tell you my cell contract was up twenty years ago."

Brutus laughed, "Americans still had contracts for that?"

"My family just never trusted Big Brother to not fuck us."

Brutus chuckled again and slapped Daniel's arm.

"You're a funny guy! After this, maybe we can share a drink. I'll let you two know when we're ready to move out."

Brutus walked to his squad and talked to them for a moment. Daniel tried to listen in, but couldn't understand the hushed whispers and gave up. From Brutus' body language, he gathered that Brutus was relaying the plan to the squad. Daniel inspected the device Brutus had given him. It was shaped like a hands-free device Daniel used to see as a teenager. A piece of plastic shaped like a hook was attached to the device and Daniel felt a small button on the back of the device. He wrapped the hook around his ear and adjusted it until it rested snugly against his ear.

A voice came crackling through the radio, "Mic check, check-check, one-two-three. Can you hear me?"

Daniel pressed and held the button down before speaking, "Loud and clear."

"Great, let's move out."

The earpiece drooped uncomfortably on Daniel's ear. He growled quietly as he struggled to fix it. Before heading through the tunnel he had come from, he grabbed Roy's shoulder to stop him.

"Keep yourself safe, "Daniel said to him, "No playing hero. You got that?"

Roy smirked and gave Daniel a relaxed salute before hurrying into the tunnel. Roy placed the night vision goggles in his bag before putting on his helmet and mask. He turned on his headlamp and started down the tunnel. After a short delay, the soldier leading the fire team signaled for the group to follow. Daniel's group tailed Roy through the tunnel as he made his way back to the bandit station. After a short walk, Roy was spotted by the guard posted at the mouth of the tunnel. He shouted at Roy. Daniel couldn't clearly hear what the man was saying, but by the way Roy put his hands in the air and slowly walked to the stairs onto the platform, he assumed it was similar to what the guard from earlier had shouted at them the first time through. After a short wait, the bandit who had escorted them through the station appeared and approached Roy. He seemed to recognize Roy, because he relaxed his grip on his rifle and let his shoulders droop. They chatted for a short while. Daniel strained to listen in on their conversation, but the humming of the wind muffled their chatter just enough to cause his shoulders to tense up. Roy and the escort walked into the station and up a flight of stairs, leaving the guard alone.

The fire team quietly neared the station. The guard sat in his chair behind the low sandbag wall and watched the darkness of the tunnel. He seemed relaxed, but frequently sniffled and rubbed his nose against his sleeve. The fire team leader looked back and pointed at Daniel to get his attention. He then pointed at the guard before making a gesture as if cutting his own neck with his thumb. Daniel assumed the Russian soldier was asking him to take out the guard and nodded. He silently moved to the front of the group and sidled into the shadow cast by the sandbags before turning off his night vision goggles. He hid in his umbral cradle and waited for an opportunity to incapacitate the guard. The guard ceased sniffling for a few seconds, breaking his pattern. After a short pause, he let out a violent sneeze. Daniel could see the thin mist of bacteria-riddled spit glistening in the light as it gently fell over him. He looked down to avoid it settling on his face.

"Ugh, shit," the guard grunted.

Daniel could hear the sound of tissue paper being ripped. After a moment he heard the man blow his nose a couple of times before becoming quiet again. After another grueling handful of seconds, the man sucked his teeth.

"God dammit."

He sighed before leaving his chair and taking a few steps away from the sandbags. Daniel took the opportunity to peek around the sandbags and spy on the guard. He was walking toward a trashcan beside the bathroom structure's door.

"This is why I always stuck to hockey."

Daniel quickly and quietly approached the guard before slipping an arm around his neck. He squeezed the bandit's neck tightly, preventing him from making any noise. Before the bandit could realize what was happening and struggle, he had passed out and gone limp. Daniel released his hold on the bandit's neck and moved his arms to hold the man up. The fire team moved past Daniel like a gust of wind. They posted up around the base of the staircase, watching any direction that a guard could come from. As Daniel opened the bathroom door and moved inside, the team split up and disappeared into the station to complete their part of the plan. Daniel could hear their voices chattering back and forth on the radio as he propped the bandit against the wall next to the pit latrine.

Brutus addressed Daniel through the radio, "Heads up, Prophet; railcar coming from our rear."

Daniel hurriedly dropped his night vision into his bag. He could hear the railcar pull into the station with a steady clacking of its wheels against the tracks. He quickly pulled his helmet and mask over his head.

"Yo," he heard someone shout, "Where is everybody?"

Daniel pulled his mask into place before tightening his focus and heading out the door.

"Relax," Daniel called back, "I was taking a dump."

"The boss'd get pissed if he found out you didn't have someone cover for you."

"Everyone else is on that take out east, and he'd get even more pissed if I shit on the floor."

The bandit laughed.

"Too true, man. Can you grab us some water?"

Daniel nodded and walked toward the refrigerator standing against the wall. He opened the door and looked inside. Behind the fridge door, he found a gust of cool air and several bottles of murky water.

"How much you need?"

"Couple bottles'll be fine."

Daniel took two bottles of water from the fridge and closed the door. He walked to the cart and held out the water bottles. The bandit took them in his hands before squinting his eyes and staring at Daniel for a moment.

"What's up with the mask?"

Daniel released his hold on the bottles and shrugged his shoulders.

"It makes me feel cool."

The bandit laughed aloud.

"You fuckin' nerd!"

"Yeah, bite me. I always get stuck on guard duty, so I never get to go up top."

"Oh, hey, can you take care of these for us? Boss wants us to take out a couple big shot Stalkers that came through, so we gotta go."

The bandit dropped a small wooden crate and several sacks onto the boarding platform.

Daniel looked them over. They seemed to be spoils from the plundered supplies.

"Yeah, I'll have the next new guy that comes through get them."

The bandit smirked at Daniel and slapped his shoulder. The other bandit turned on the engine and released the brakes, causing the cart to glide back toward the tunnel it had come from. Daniel followed it as he walked back to the chair behind the sandbag wall.

"Good hunting out there."

The bandits both held their arms up and waved to Daniel. The cart headed along the tracks, leaving only a beam of light and the steady clacking of its wheels to fall into the darkness of the tunnel. Daniel sat in the chair and waited until the light had faded before wiping his shoulder where the bandit had touched him. He then wiped his hand on the sandbags before leaning back in his chair. He pursed his lips and his nostrils flared slightly. His mind fixated on his shoulder where the bandit had touched him, causing his skin to crawl. Contrition nipped at his skin like a horde of ants. He tried to burn them away with spite and resentful swears, but for each thought he killed, a hundred more took its place.

Brutus' voiced crackled through the radio, "We've cleaned everything up here, Prophet. Come on up to the boss' room."

Daniel's trance was broken.

He slid his hand under his mask and held the button on the transceiver to respond, "Alright, I'm on my way up."

Daniel stood up from his chair and climbed the staircase. He meandered through the narrow hallway, following the faint murmur of voices coming from deeper inside the station. He examined the walls and lost himself in thought. He followed the neat lines between each of the linoleum tiles. He wondered what material it was that held the tiles together, as he always did each time he saw tiles like them. His eyes wandered to the floor and his mind followed. He noted that the floor looked like the floors of all the other reconstructed stations. The floors were much smoother and had fewer imperfections than the renovated stations like Grand Square. He remembered how difficult it had become to get around the city during the construction. He remembered his old classmate that would come up with fake headlines.

"It's a 'Transit Travesty!'" Daniel remembered him spitting out, along with the sandwich half he had in his mouth.

He remembered that classmate telling him about his dream career as they sat on the fire escape of Daniel's apartment building, overlooking the street.

"I'm gonna be a journalist," Daniel remembered him boasting, "I'm gonna make sure people hear about what's really going on out there."

Daniel remembered the response he'd always give his friend.

"Good luck, Jacob," Daniel mumbled aloud to himself, "I hope you make it alright out there."

When Daniel snapped out of his trance, he spied the subtle glittering of fire light just ahead of him. He saw a few of the Russian soldiers posted around the boss' office door, watching the halls. As he passed by a wall of iron bars, he looked past them to see another Russian soldier crouched beside a group of captives. He held their faces still, one by one, and spoke quietly to them. He waited a moment for a response from each one, before moving to the next. Daniel walked under the wooden door frame into the office. He found Roy looking at several documents with Brutus and the body of the bandit leader lying face-down in a puddle of his own blood. Daniel approached Brutus.

"What's that?" Daniel asked, referring to the papers.

"Bills of sales, documentation on past operations, documentation on possible targets, and communications records," Brutus answered, "These guys have been up to some evil shit, my friend."

"Bandits like to think we don't know about what they do out here. We just never had enough manpower to stop them."

"Have they always tortured people and sold people into slavery?"

"Slavery, yeah, but they've never tortured people, that I know of."

"Apparently they've been interrogating people. They were looking for information on something called the 'Grand Square' for someone named 'Colonel Aaron Caul.' That mean anything to you?"

"Yeah, it means a lot. Lemme see those."

Brutus handed Daniel one of the documents.

"This is the latest message from that Colonel."

Daniel snatched the paper from Brutus and quickly skimmed through its contents. He picked out a few key words and sentences. He read most of them aloud.

"Any Grand Square Stalkers are to be eliminated discreetly… Your activities will go overlooked and unhindered… I want Operation Shattered Gold to go as smoothly as possible… Are there any other letters on this 'Operation Shattered Gold' thing?"

Brutus pawed through the papers on the desk. After a short search, he picked one up and handed it to Daniel.

"This one."

Daniel took the letter and quickly read it. He tried to pick out details about the operation the previous letter had mentioned. After a short read, he found a coupling of sentences that caused his jaw to hang open, his eyelids to pull apart, and an icy chill to latch onto the back of his neck. Each letter on the page oozed with dread.

_The following information is classified, for your eyes only. Operation Shattered Gold will be deemed a success after the assassination of the king of Grand Square._

"Oh my God…" Daniel's strained voice softly shook from his throat, "Ross…"

Without another moment of hesitation, Daniel darted out of the office and down the corridor. He hurried through the hallway, bounding past the bodies of bandits, until he found the staircase and shuffled down it with heavy footsteps. He had only made it halfway down before he leaped over the rest. His boots slammed into the ground and immediately continued their forward moving pattern without skipping a beat. Once he was in the tunnel, he broke into a full sprint and tore his way through the darkness to Grand Square.


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Regicide

Ross sat quietly behind his desk. The light of his lamp caused the droplets of water clinging to his whiskey glass to glimmer weakly. He lifted the glass to his lips, causing the pair of ice cubes to clatter together as they waltzed around the glass. He paused for a moment as the chime of a memory blew through his mind. He thought of a thing he used to keep tied above the balcony of his apartment that would jingle like ice cubes in a glass, but the name of it eluded him. The chill of the cup relieved a bit of the aching in his fingers. He placed the glass back on his desk and picked up the magazine beside a box of military-grade ammunition. He pinched the tip of a round and pulled it out of the box. He let the bullet slide until the casing was between his fingertips. He held the round against another bullet poking out from the opening of the magazine. In one swift motion, he pushed the bullet down and slid it into the magazine. He repeated this process several times, occasionally checking the back of it to see how many rounds were loaded. After he had reached thirty rounds, he placed the magazine atop one of the small stacks near the edge of his desk and rubbed his eyes. He picked up an empty magazine and began to load it with bullets. He heard a knock on his door.

"It's open," he called out, still focused on his task.

He could hear the door swing open, then close quietly.

Stick's voice dominated the echo of his footsteps, "You're still at it, huh?"

"It's gotta get done."

"Isn't that what you hired that guy for? You know, the one with the weird lip."

"He's already done for the day."

Ross took another sip of his drink, while Stick sat down in the chair on the opposite side of Ross' desk.

"Have him do it tomorrow."

"Hunters are due back today."

"Is it that late already?"

"It is that early, yes."

Ross heard Stick scoff.

"Bite me."

"Sorry, old man. You ain't my type."

"I'm way outta your league anyway."

Ross chuckled as another couple of knocks meekly crawled through the grain of the wooden door.

"It's open," Ross called.

Ross looked up to meet the gaze of a Peacemaker opening the door.

"You busy?" he asked.

"Yes and no. Whaddya need?"

"That Army guy, Diaz, says he needs to talk to you, over by the cells. He says it's important."

With a sigh, Ross relaxed his wrist and let the magazine flop onto the desktop.

"Alright, I'm on my way."

The Peacemaker nodded and left the room. Ross left the bullets and magazine on his desk and stood up.

Stick asked, "Not gonna put those away?"

"I'm only gonna be gone for a minute."

"These usually take long?"

Stick stood up while Ross walked around his desk.

"No, no, he'll prob'ly just say something like 'Colonel Caul believes you should suck a fat one' or something and waddle away. Same shit as always."

They walked through the doorway. Ross closed the door behind them.

"Wanna take a walk? It'd be nice to have some company."

"Gotta pass. Wife's already gonna be pissed at me for being gone so late. Told her I was just picking up some things from the market."

"Ah, lame. Alright, well, we still on for cards?"

"As far as I know."

"Sweet! See ya then."

Ross slapped Stick's shoulder before turning and following the pink markers toward the holding cells. The walk through the station was mostly quiet, save for a few passing guards and night-shift workers. He greeted each person he passed.

"What are you still doin' up?" he'd call out, "Workin' hard, or hardly workin'?"

Each person greeted him back with a smile.

"Turning into a zombie," they'd moan, "Boss is bleeding us dry out here, man!"

Ross passed by a torn curtain letting scraps of light escape through the doorway. As he did, he heard someone call his name, so he stopped and turned around. A feeble-looking old man stepped through the doorway. His wooden cane served as a third leg as he hobbled toward Ross, waving his hand.

"I'm glad I caught ya!" he said cheerfully, "Wanted to tell you that a new batch of that Bees' Knees you like so much is ready. Thought you should get the first glass, on me."

Ross giggled, "Mr. B., you really gotta work on those names; they sound silly. That's the stuff with the honey mixed in, right?"

"Yeah, that's the stuff. Name's a product of the times I grew up in, my boy."

His wheezy laughter soon turned into pained grunts as he clutched his hip, but his smile never shrank.

"How long you gonna be up? I gotta work right now, but I can swing by in about twenty minutes."

"You kids need to learn how to slow down, or you'll work yourselves to death, I tell ya. Last call's at three, like always."

"Awesome, save a seat for me, huh?"

"There's always a seat for you!"

They both gave each other a wave. Mr. B. returned to his bar, while Ross continued on his path to the holding cells. When he arrived, he was greeted with the usual sight of mostly-empty cells, aside from one which held a cocky drunkard shouting threats to no one in particular and another holding a man hassling the patrolling guard.

"Come on, man, I didn't do anything that bad, did I?"

"You called a clerk a 'dog-fucker,' threatened to violate his wife, and kicked over his sign."

"So, I got a little angry! I gotta work the platform tomorrow. D'you know how hard it is to work with a stiff shoulder?"

"Buddy, I sleep in a chair every night. You can spend the night in here and think about how you're gonna apologize to that old man."

The guard cut the conversation short and continued to wander along his patrol route, leaving the short-fused man alone in his cell. Near the center of the narrow, long space were a few men standing under a fluorescent light. Their dingy, grey uniforms were enough to tell Ross who they were, although Ross could pick out Diaz's sharp eyes and short, brown hair from any crowd. He stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back, and watched Ross as he approached. The other two soldiers were each clutching a sub-machine gun. Ross thought their posture and armament were strange. Ross stopped more than a few paces away from the group of soldiers. He could see the snubbed nose of another sub-machine gun and a portion of another soldier guarding the far entrance.

"You rang?" Ross asked, pushing his voice to carry over to Diaz.

"You sure took your time," Diaz called back.

"What can I say? I don't like to rush myself."

"Indeed."

"So, what do you want?"

"I have something I need to discuss with you."

"This about Penn Station again? Came to bully me into it, huh? Look, I already told you that's on your guys. I just don't have the manpower."

"That's not what I'm here for. I have a message from the Colonel."

Ross sucked his teeth and placed his hands on his hips.

"Alright, then, spit it out."

"It isn't something I can shout."

"Then lose the stiffs and come over here."

Diaz didn't answer. The stares from his entourage tickled at Ross' neck. He heard shouting coming from behind him. He looked back to see the patrolling Peacemaker wrestling back a shouting Stalker. The Stalker's voice was familiar.

"Ross!' he screamed, "Get out of there!"

"Danny?" Ross called back as he started toward the two struggling men, "What's up with you?"

"Run! They're here to kill you!"

"They what…?"

Ross turned around to find the trio of soldiers all pointing weapons at him. Diaz's polished, silver pistol gleamed brilliantly in the flat light.

Diaz's voice scratched against Ross' ears, "Colonel Caul believes you need to be removed from power."

Ross stood upright, clenched his fists and broadened his shoulders. His brow sunk downward and he pursed his lips while his teeth scraped together.

"You've got a lot of nerve, coming into my station and threatening me," he sneered, "I served under that bastard for six years, and this is how he repays me? No paycheck, or even a 'Thanks for nearly dying a bunch for me!' or anything?"

"I'm only following orders."

"Your orders are the least of your worries right now. You'd better put those things away before you get hurt."

"Try not to take this so personally."

Ross refrained from looking over his shoulder.

"I won't be the one taking it personally."

"Regardless, I've got a job to do, and I intend to see it through."

"Aren't you just a good little doggie?"

Diaz's mirthless grunt barely managed to reach Ross' ears. His quick glances revealed the hopelessly empty spaces surrounding him. He could no longer hear Daniel's voice and could only imagine the horrified look on his face. Ross' gaze darted toward the railing beside him. He contemplated jumping onto the tracks, but figured he'd sooner sprain something than escape, if he did. He wondered if he'd be able to run. He thought about trying to duck or dive into the opening of the hallway beside him. Whatever glimmer of faith he harbored slowly faded as he realized just how far away salvation really was. As he imagined how he might escape, each step counted was like another heel beating down whatever measure of optimism he had left. He came to understand that the only thing left he could do was to steel himself and stare Death in the face.

Diaz's voice rang in his ears one more time, "I'll never admit that I thought you were a good leader."

With those words, Ross resigned himself and closed his eyes. The sounds of the world seemed to disappear. He thought of how Daniel would get along without him. The thought of his friend sinking back into depression caused Ross' teeth to grind together. He thought of the Hunters that wouldn't get paid if he died. He thought of all the supplies he'd readied going to feed the fire of the Caul's regime instead of his people. The faces of the people living in Grand Square flew through his mind. The thought of them marching into a blizzard of bullets and shrapnel scratched at the walls of his skull. His long wait was finally ended by the ringing sound of gunfire. A sudden, incredible force pushed against his chest, forcing him to the ground. He opened his eyes and looked up at the massive black shape before him. Ross thought it looked like an enormous door. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could make out the silhouette of a man staring down at him. The shadow reached down and began patting his body and pulling on his clothes.

It spoke in a rusty voice, "No visual damage. He's good."

Ross' eyes completely adjusted to the light, revealing the Peacemaker's helmet and the pair of ballistic shields protecting them from the incoming fire. Ross heard more shouting, followed by more gunfire.

"Cover!"

"Get him up! We're moving!"

"Come on, Boss-man, we're getting you outta here."

The Peacemaker pulled Ross to his knees and placed his hand on Ross' head to keep it from peeking over the top of the shield. Ross got a better look at the shield and the man holding it. It looked similar in material to the armor the Peacemakers wore, but demonstrated its superior durability by soaking up each and every bullet it took into its face without letting a single one pass through. It looked like the outline of the top-half of a one-eyed man. The Peacemaker holding it had his pistol placed on the edge that reminded Ross of a human shoulder and was firing back at the Army soldiers. The Peacemaker dragged Ross behind the wall and into cover.

"Sergeant," the Peacemaker called out, "V.I.P. secured!"

"Solid copy," another Peacemaker shouted, "Red team, we are retreating! Spartan guys, get clear!"

The Sergeant had an emblem emblazoned on his helmet in black and gold to denote his rank. The shield-toting Peacemakers side-stepped behind each other as if they were playing a deadly game of leap-frog until both were safely behind the wall. The small force then began running through the hallways.

"District Lead, be advised," the Sergeant mumbled into his radio, "We have secured the King. We are moving him to his office, then taking up defensive positions."

Ross heard a voice crackle out of the radio, but couldn't understand what it said.

"Copy that. Red team out."

They came upon a junction in the hallway, where a handful of soldiers wearing fatigues bearing strange patterns of blue, grey, and white were propped against the opposite corner. A Peacemaker was holding a frantic woman away from the crossing.

One of the soldiers held his hand out toward Ross' group and shouted, "Stoy! Stoy!"

His voice carried an air that was unfamiliar to Ross. Another hunch-backed Peacemaker suddenly emerged from the hallway. Following closely behind him was a hail of bullets that forced the other men to flinch backward behind the wall. The Peacemaker opened his arms and straightened his back, releasing a tiny person from his grasp. The other Peacemaker released the woman, who promptly embraced the child.

"Spartan-guys," the Sergeant barked, "Cover our exit."

"Understood," one of the shield bearers said, "Minimal exposure."

The two shield bearers moved to the front of the group and lined up side by side with their shields facing the opening of the hallway. They then walked sideways in unison into the mouth of the hallway. The fiery storm buffeted their shields, but their wall held strong. One of the Red team Peacemakers crouched behind a shield bearer and propped his rifle on the shield's shoulder before delivering steady fire back at the Army soldiers. The rest of the team then moved single-file past the shields in a crouch. Ross watched as a bullet smashed itself against the visor of the shield, startling one of the crossing Peacemakers and causing him to stumble and nearly lose his footing. He caught himself before he fell and continued across. Ross followed behind Daniel as he was guided across by a Peacemaker, who held his head below the line of fire. Ross glanced through the visors of the shields and through the cracks in their defense, down the hallway. He noticed that only a few of the bullets the Army soldiers fired were actually hitting the shields, while the rest of their fire chipped away at the wall and ceiling behind him. The small fireteam held their position and waited for the rest of the men to make it across. Ross watched one of the Peacemakers banging on someone's door.

"I'm a Peacemaker," he shouted, "Open the door!"

The door cracked open, but Ross couldn't see the people inside.

The Peacemaker pulled the woman and her child up to the door and spoke to the crease. Before long, the door swung open and the frame swallowed the two civilians before slamming shut. The Peacemaker then made his way toward Ross.

"Last man," he said to the shield bearers as he passed by.

After he was across, the two Peacemakers slid behind the wall and their group continued through the hall. They passed by several entrenched Peacemakers and soldiers. As they moved closer to Ross' office, their group grew smaller. First the soldiers broke off from them, then the extra Peacemakers. When they reached the office door, the shield bearers continued running down the hall.

"This is Spartan," Ross heard one them speak into a radio as they left, "Regrouping with Hoplon."

The Sergeant barked orders at a couple of Peacemakers guarding the door before he and his squad split up and reinforced the hallway. The two Peacemakers opened the door, then pushed Daniel and Ross into the office before stepping into the office themselves. They closed the door behind them and stood at attention in front of it. Daniel leaned against the wall and took deep breaths. Ross walked to his desk and brought his hand to his face. As he begun to rub his eyes with his palm, his fingertips felt wet. He tilted his hand downward into the light. The sweat gripped the light before flinging back into Ross' eyes, creating a faint reflection that glimmered off his hand. Ross heard more gunfire, followed by a shrill scream that crawled up his spine. He whipped his body around and met the gaze of the two Peacemakers blocking the door.

"Let me through," Ross ordered.

The two guards looked at each other, then back at Ross. They didn't budge.

Ross raised his voice, "Get out of my way. I'm going out there."

Daniel stepped between him and the guards and shouted at Ross, "Like hell you are!"

"You want me to just hide in here? My people need help out there!"

"I don't give a flying fuck! You're staying right here!"

Daniel pushed Ross back. Ross stumbled a few steps backward before catching himself on his desk. The impact caused a few bullets to fall over and roll onto the floor, while the stack of rifle magazines toppled onto the desktop. Ross stood up straight and clenched his fists. He kept his arms to his sides with his elbows bent slightly. He furled his brown and glared at Daniel. Daniel had his legs apart and his upper body hunched forward as he glared back at Ross. His posture was like that of a crouched animal, waiting to pounce. The sound of what Ross though was more gunfire and shouting rang in his ears. His lip quivered and twitched and the small hairs all over his body began to itch as they stretched themselves out.

He squeezed his fists even tighter and lunged forward, jabbing a heavy fist toward Daniel. His knuckles slammed against Daniel's face, sending a thin mist of spit and sweat sailing across the small room. Daniel reeled backward for a moment, but quickly recovered before launching himself back at Ross. Ross threw another jab at Daniel, but Daniel ducked aside and grabbed his arm, while slamming his body into Ross. He directed Ross' momentum downward and over his body, flipping Ross and slamming him onto the floor, flat on his back. Ross slowly rolled over onto his elbows and knees before quickly swiping upwards with his fist as he rose to his feet. The edges of his knuckles knocked against Daniel's chin, but was largely, though narrowly, dodged. The surprise wake-up attack caught Daniel off guard and he stumbled backward, nearly running into one of the guards at the door. His upper body drooped slightly, while his hips rest against the wall. Ross walked toward the door, his posture hunched to intimidate the guards. Daniel's body suddenly lurched forward and thrust itself toward Ross. His shoulder bashed Ross' gut. The air in Ross' lungs was suddenly forced out of his body. Daniel tried to wrap his arms around Ross' waist, but Ross swiftly loosened his grip and pushed Daniel aside. Daniel stood up straight and readied himself for another attack, but Ross delivered an attack he was sure would end the fight. He swung his arm wide and caught Daniel on the side of the head with a sudden right hook. After his fist had rammed against Daniel's temple, Ross took a step back and struggled to breathe, while keeping his stance. His stomach felt tight and his lungs felt as though they had collapsed.

Daniel held his hand out toward Ross and reeled back before coming to a rest on the floor. He placed one hand on the ground to hold himself up and the other against his head. Confident in his victory and still out of breath, Ross grabbed an empty chair from the corner of the room and pulled it against the wall before sitting down. Neither of them said a word to each other as they both caught their breath. The guards stood silently at attention in front of the door. They all sat in silence as if the world outside had vanished.

After catching his breath, Ross was the first to break the silence, "Over twenty years, and you still haven't beaten me once."

"Didn't need to beat you," Daniel heaved.

"You make it sound like you had a chance."

"Gotta let you have something to brag about."

Ross chuckled weakly. As they sat in the dim light, only the sound of the two aged men's heavy breathing slithered through the office.


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Council

Roy opened the door to Ross' office and stepped inside. Inside the room were a collection of middle-aged men, most of which he recognized. Ross sat in his usual place behind his desk with Stick on the side opposite him. Brutus was standing at attention beside a bald man wearing the same fatigues as him. His old commander sat on at the end of Ross' desk, while a man in an expensive-looking Tabby fur coat paced in front of the liquor shelf. A rotund man and a slim woman, both of whom had a patch with the picture of a cat attached to their right shoulder sleeves, stood against the wall in front of him. Roy closed the door behind him and took his place beside Daniel against the wall next to the door.

Ross began to speak once Roy had settled in his spot, "Looks like we're all here, then. We can start."

The man in the fur coat stopped and spoke up, "Hang on a second. Who's the kid?"

Everyone in the room turned their attention on Roy aside from the bald man and Daniel.

"He's my left hand. Why, do you have a problem with it?"

"Not if you picked him. I've just never heard of him or what he can do."

Daniel stepped forward and reached into his pocket. He revealed a long, knife-like tooth in a plastic baggie and placed it on the desk. He jerked his head to the side, gesturing Roy toward him. After Roy looked at the tooth, he tugged on his own baggie. His bagged Tabby tooth popped out from under his coat pocket and dangled between his fingertips. He placed it next to Daniel's on the desk. Stick looked at the pair of teeth, then up at Daniel.

"Please tell me those are just a big Howler's teeth," he pleaded.

"Tabby," Daniel stated, "He killed it before it killed me."

Stick took a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly. One of the Black Cats was audibly surprised.

"Two Stalkers taking out a Tabby on their own?" he asked, "He must have been exhausted, right?"

"Nah, he was just getting through toying with a Contractor group sent to take him out. He had plenty of time to lick his wounds."

"Did you guys get it from a building or something?"

"No, he blasted it right before it crunched my face."

"Hah! You're a regular San Expedito!"

The man chuckled loudly.

Stick grabbed Roy's shoulder and pulled him downward. He brought his face up to Roy's ear.

"You do not tell your mother about this," he said harshly, "She'll have a heart attack!"

"Don't Hunters take them in pairs?" Roy asked, "Is it a big deal that we did?"

The Black Cat answered him, "Kid, Hunters are trained and geared specifically for taking them down. They're walking tanks designed to kill Tabbys. You and the Prophet taking one down with no preparation or equipment? Even if he is the best Square has, you two should be dead!"

Ross asked the man behind him, "That good enough for you, Harvey?"

"Looks like he's got whatever mojo the Prophet has," the man said, "I guess that's plenty."

"Good-good. Give me the skinny, then."

"Well, thankfully, the market was mostly empty, as it usually is at that time of night. Peacemakers were able to take it over before too much damage was done to the shops."

"And the Commons?"

"Well, there are a lot of holes that weren't there before, but nothing that can't be buffed out."

"And the platforms?"

"By the time the Army got there, they were already on the run. Nothing important got broken, aside from a crane arm we can just rebuild."

"Solid stuff. Alright, Stick, how about Grand Central?"

Stick gave his report, "There wasn't any fighting in Grand Central. We did round up anyone with past or present contact with Army, though."

"They locked up?"

"They're all already in the cells."

Ross nodded his head, then turned to the steely-looking man at his desk.

"Captain Marshall, give me your report."

Marshall stood up and saluted down before beginning his report, "The Peacemakers managed to contain the fighting to Square station. We suffered zero casualties and minimal injuries."

He lowered his head slightly as he spoke.

"I'm embarrassed to say that I had no idea of the extensive network of Black Cat moles within Grand Square. I'm even more ashamed to admit that, without them, the damage would have been much more severe. They managed to block off any extra routes the Army could have taken as they moved and flanked them into a funnel out of the station. I'm also ashamed to admit that if the Russian soldiers had not showed up when they did, we would have been completely overwhelmed before the night was through."

"And on the Army's side?"

"Any injured are being watched as they recover in the hospital. We couldn't find any bodies, but we don't know if the Army picked them up as they left, so we can only assume there were little to no deaths."

"Good… That's good…"

Ross sat for a moment before looking up at the Black Cat man.

"You said your name was Dave, right?"

Dave stood up straight.

"That's what people call me," he said with a smile.

"You were a great help to me and my people. I can't thank you enough."

"No need. Believe it or not, we need you and your station more than you might think. Besides, all of the Black Cats have a lot of respect for the King of Grand Square."

"You'd think after fifteen years, I'd be used to it, but it's still weird to be called a king."

"I think it's just what your people see you as, right?"

"No, no, Stick said it once as a joke and it just stuck."

Stick shrugged his shoulders and Ross laughed. Ross turned to the bald man and Brutus.

"Well, you two have been mumbling to yourselves over there this whole time. I'd like to talk with you now."

Brutus stood up straight and spoke with his usual cheerful, heavy voice, "Not mumbling, just translating for Captain Mirov."

"He's your leader, right? Is Captain a high rank for the Spetznaz?"

Brutus' failed to hide his surprise behind his chuckle.

"Spetznaz? We aren't anything as exotic as Spetznaz. We're all submarine crewmen; naval forces."

"So that's the big, grey monster Blackbeard keeps talking about, huh? A submarine?"

"Yes, we were nearly out of rations and we detected human activity in the city, so we decided to come ashore to investigate. We eventually managed to secure food and information from someone at the Smithy Station in exchange for our obsolete weapons and the destruction of local criminal groups."

Mirov called out Brutus' name, then spoke. Roy couldn't understand a word of what he was saying. Brutus answered his call with a salute and they talked for a moment before Mirov nodded his head and relaxed in his chair.

"He say something?"

"No, no, I told him that I was explaining some things to you first."

"Alright, well, how did you know that we needed help?"

"I was the one who found the file and showed it to the Prophet and his friend while we were capturing bandit camps for the Black Cats."

"You guys know each other?"

"Yes, you and I have actually met once before."

"Oh, you were the guy that killed the Hawk, right?"

Brutus nodded.

"Well, sorry I got so pissed off at you back then."

"No need to apologize. I understand."

"Well, I'd like to ask your captain a few questions. Can you help me out?"

"That is why I am here."

"First and foremost, I want to know why you guys helped us. You looking for something?"

Brutus and Mirov spoke for a short while. Brutus repeated everything Mirov said to him before thinking for a second.

"He says 'Your friend helped one of my friends.'"

"What does that mean?"

"The way I remember he said it, we're all in the same club now. So, we'll be at the next meeting on Thursday."

Roy noticed Daniel shaking his head.

"So, what? You guys just want to help us out now because one of my guys helped one of your guys?"

Brutus and Mirov repeated their translation process.

"He says 'We can't survive in this world we don't know anything about without help and you need help with your problem. It would benefit us both if we worked together.'"

"I get it. We make an alliance or something."

"Something like that."

"So, what are the Russians doing in American, anyway? I thought Moscow got nuked to shit before they could fire back."

"We had several nuclear submarines patrolling the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. When we found out about what happened to our homeland, we took it upon ourselves to make sure America suffered the same fate."

"Mutual Assured Destruction…"

"Yes, the American military thought Russia's had been wiped out, so we easily slipped through naval defenses and prepared just off both coasts."

"Then you guys unloaded."

"Well, the other submarine, did, yes. Captain Mirov didn't think ending the world completely would be the best idea, but Captain Vitsin disagreed."

"Are those guys still in the bay or something?"

"Last we heard from them, there was a mutiny aboard their vessel. They had launched the experimental chemical weapons our ships had been armed with and that didn't go over well with most of the crew. They drifted off into the ocean and we haven't heard from them since."

"Chemical weapons? I thought you guys just launched nukes."

"Only Captain Vitsin's sub launched a nuclear bomb, which was detonated high enough that most of the fallout was blown away by the wind. The other missiles contained mercury infused with beta particles and other shit. It could be absorbed just through contact with skin and was more destructive than microwaves. Think of it like chemicals on nuclear cocaine. Honestly, I don't know how you people have been able to survive with that around."

"We yankees have always been tough as nails. How do you know all this?"

"As an intelligence officer, I get my nose into things it doesn't belong in. I have read things I shouldn't have before they were covered with black ink. Just don't tell the Captain that, or I'll be shot. You know, blindfold, cigarette, firing line, and all that."

His laugh gave Roy an odd chill.

"Alright, well, we can work out the details of this alliance later on. For now, your men can post up in 42nd. Plenty of vacancy over there now."

He chuckled to himself before looking at Dave.

"What do you Black Cat guys plan to do? You guys never stepped on our toes. The way I see it, you've done nothing but help us out, so you're more than welcome in Grand Square."

"We appreciate that, amigo, but you don't realize how important the survival of your station is to the survival of my own people."

"What's that mean?"

"Bah, nothing important. Just me being cryptic."

Dave's boisterous laugh didn't do much to change the befuddled look on Ross' face.

He shrugged it off after a moment, "Well, I'm sure you already have people everywhere here, anyway. You just don't have to hide anymore. With that, I think we're all done here for now."

One by one, the people in the room started to file out. The Black Cats quickly left, seemingly in a bit of a rush. Ross' advisors both left after exchanging goodbyes with him. Brutus slapped Daniel's shoulder before leading his Captain out of the office.

"You gonna stick around a bit, Danny?" Ross asked as he stood up and walked to his liquor cabinet.

Daniel shook his head and yawned.

"Alright, well, I'll let you know when something comes up. God knows something's gonna come up."

Daniel lowered his head and looked past his brow at Ross with pursed lips, who cowered playfully for a moment before going back to his cabinet. Daniel pushed himself away from the wall before heading out the door. Roy could hear him sneeze once from behind the door.

"How about you, Stick? You gotta go too?"

Stick nodded his head and stood up from his chair. He and Ross waved to each other. Roy collected the two teeth before giving Ross his usual salute and following his father out of the office.


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Cold

Daniel opened his eyes. He could feel the cold beads of sweat rolling across his forehead. He gripped at his hairline, blinding his peripheral vision with his arms. He stared at a single point on the ceiling, eyes wide open, as a familiar pressure pushed down on him from his bedside. He felt as though his body was being pushed into his bed. His hands began to tremble and his breathing grew more and more shallow. He considered closing his eyes, but determined that doing so would make it worse. All he could do was grit his teeth and ignore the ringing in his ears. A knock on the door broke him out of his fit. After a moment of complete stillness, another knock rang through his room. He dropped his arms onto his chest and looked toward the door. His floor and bulletin board were coated with the light from Miyako's gaudy lamp on his desk.

"It's open," he called out.

The door snapped open and revealed Roy's face.

"You feelin' any better?" he asked in a rather cheery voice as he entered the room.

"Just a bit of a headache."

"Never thought I'd see the day you get sick."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you touch a rat…"

"Huh?"

Daniel hid his grimace.

"It's nothing. Just complaining. You're in a good mood, though."

Roy puffed out his chest.

"My old man's letting me buy my own gun. He's gonna teach me how to clean it later today too."

"Is that right?"

"That's right! Any advice?"

"A Carbine and a good forty-five. Nine mil' is only good for killing people, which I pray to God you never have to do."

"I was thinking of getting two revolvers, so I don't have to worry about running out of bullets in a pinch."

"Some Stalkers do that and it can help. I never liked to because I hated having to remember to reload and keep track of too many guns."

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind. I'm gonna take off now, but you forgot this at Ross' office."

Roy put the Tabby tooth on Daniel's desk beside his dismantled pistol.

"Thanks, I didn't even realize I'd left it."

Roy signaled his departure with his usual salute and headed out the door. Daniel relaxed in his bed. After a short time, he began to doze. In his foggy stupor, he thought he heard more knocking. The thought was pushed aside as he felt a tickle in the back of his nose. The tickle quickly, but gradually swelled. Just before the feeling reached its peak, it withdrew momentarily, then bubbled up once again. This pattern held for a few seconds before Daniel closed his eyes. He could only imagine how silly he looked with his mouth wide open, his arm in front of his face, and his head cocked back. In one swift motion, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the lamp. When the light flooded his eyes, whatever force that had overtaken his naval cavity suddenly exploded. He wrapped his arm around his face, planting his mouth and nose against his forearm. He drenched his sleeve with spittle before letting out a satisfied grunt. His door cracked open and Dave poked his head into Daniel's room.

"Thought you were asleep, since you didn't answer," he said with a smirk on his face, "but it's a good thing I showed up when I did."

He held out a box of tissues where Daniel could see. Daniel pulled his blanket off his legs as he began to get up. Dave held his other arm out as he entered the room.

"No, no, no, don't get up! I don't have time to stay and chat. Just came to drop these off."

He walked to Daniel's bed and placed the tissue box beside him.

"Mejórate, amigo."

"Thanks," Daniel replied as Dave closed the door.

Daniel pulled a couple of the tissues out of the box and used them to clear out his nose. He dropped them onto the floor beside his bed before placing the box beside them. He looked at them for a moment, trying to decide whether to get up and throw them away or leave them for later.

"I'm sick," he convinced himself, "I'll take care of it later."

Daniel heard another knock on his door.

"It's open."

The door swung open to reveal Stick's round belly. He stopped a moment before looking at something beside the doorframe outside.

"Come on in," Stick said, "just tell him to get well and you can go."

Daniel heard the meek whispers of a woman's voice and surmised whose they were. Eventually Stick stopped talking and just stared outside. He shrugged his shoulders with a sigh and stepped into Daniel's room, closing the door behind him.

"You don't have to push her so much to like me," Daniel said as Stick walked to his desk, "I never expected her to."

"She doesn't hate you," Stick sighed, "She was old enough to know that her parents were evil. I'm sure she'll be able to get past it eventually."

"I wonder if that makes it right."

"You've always been such a pessimist…"

"My glass was always half empty."

"Then why don't you fill it up? Maybe it's time you settled down with that girl that's been hanging around you, adopted one of the kids."

Daniel scoffed, which threw him into a coughing fit.

"Yeah, laugh it off all you want, but Ross would jump for joy if you hung up your gun."

"You know I can't do that."

"Yeah, but I keep telling myself that you'll be able to get past it eventually, too."

Daniel didn't respond. He furled his brow and looked toward his feet.

"You seen Roy around at all?"

"Yeah, he came by earlier and asked me for advice on a gun to get."

"Alright, thanks. I'll swing by later to see how you're doin'. The boy'll be happy to show off his new gun, too."

Daniel waved his hand as Stick walked out of the room. Once again, Daniel was left to the eerie comfort of silence. He rolled over onto his side and stared at the door. The apathetic bustle of the voices and footsteps outside massaged his shoulders, causing him to tense up. The white noise he used to fall asleep to began to grow louder and louder, almost like a ringing in his ears. He reached down and pulled a couple of tissues from the box on the floor, blew his nose again, and dropped them beside the ones already on the ground.

He heard his doorknob turn. It rattled and shook wildly for a moment before suddenly stopping. After another moment of muffled static, the door knob turned again. This time the door swung open, revealing familiar voices.

"You know you could have just put one on the floor first," Ross bellowed.

"Have you seen how grimy the floor is here?" Miyako quipped.

"Don't let any of the janitors hear you say that. They'd throw a fit."

He laughed before turning to meet eyes with Daniel.

"Danny!" he shouted as he placed a bowl leaking steam onto Daniel's desk, "You're awake!"

"You could wake the dead, Ross," Daniel grumbled as he sat up.

"It's a good thing zombies died in the war, then, isn't it?"

"You know, I heard a guy's been working on a novel about Grand Square being overrun by zombies. I think he's just about done with it."

Daniel could practically see the chill run up Ross' spine.

"I don't want it! I don't wanna know about it! I don't wanna hear about it!"

Daniel heard Miyako laugh as she closed the door.

"You're the only person I've ever known to actually be afraid of zombies."

"Just people eating other people is terrifying, man!"

"Come to think of it, you absolutely refused to go into Yankee Stadium back then too."

"Yeah, fuck that noise! That's why those Jersey guys spook me too!"

"I haven't heard anything about them being cannibals."

"They probably are! They're crazy enough to be!"

Daniel rolled his eyes and shook his head. Miyako placed a hand on Ross' shoulder and gently pushed him aside. She lowered a wooden bowl in front of Daniel. Steam carrying the salty scent of chicken broth swayed off the surface of the soup and stroked Daniel's nostrils.

"No," Daniel said as the soup was slowly lowered into his lap, "I appreciate it, but I don't need it."

Miyako didn't reply. She continued to lower the soup onto Daniel until he grasped it on his own. She then stood up straight, gave Daniel the most non-committal smile he'd ever seen, and shrugged her shoulders before walking behind Ross and picking up the other bowl.

"Well," Daniel sighed, "Thanks, I guess."

Ross failed to hide his laughter, "With how often I hear people call you a mean, old Tabby, I never thought I'd see the day someone turned you into a little kitty cat."

"Again with people calling me old…"

"Well, you are almost forty. Most Stalkers don't make it past twenty-five."

Daniel shrugged his shoulders and raised his brow.

"Well, anyway," Ross said as he folded his arms together and shifted his weight onto one leg, "That life expectancy might get shorter after tomorrow, especially for our Hunters."

Daniel nodded and sipped a puddle of the pleasantly salty water out of his spoon.

"On the books, I'm keeping Stalkers on logistics to try and throw off any spies the colonel might have about. Their jobs shouldn't change, much, but Dave's friend – that Victoria woman – agreed to train them."

"Never thought you'd be one for the spy game."

"The Black Cats had people all over the place. Can you blame me for thinking the Army might too?"

Daniel shook his head and slurped up another spoonful of his meal.

"Anyway, figured I'd let you know, since you're technically still a Stalker too. I want you to be at the lobby tomorrow, so get better quick."

Daniel nodded and waved his spoon at Ross. Ross turned around and started toward the door. As he walked past her, he and Miyako exchanged a smile.

"Take care of him for me, will ya?"

They exchanged a wave before Ross left the room. Daniel finished his meal and placed the bowl on the floor beside the tissue box. He grabbed a couple of tissues and blew his nose before dropping the used tissues onto the growing pile and rolling onto his back.

"Geez," Miyako nagged, "You shouldn't just drop them on the floor like that."

"What am I supposed to do with them?" Daniel whined back.

"Throw them away?"

"You see a trash bin around here?"

"Right outside your door, actually."

Daniel sighed and flopped onto his back.

"Cut me some slack. I'm sick."

Miyako glanced at the desk and lifted one corner of her mouth along with an eyebrow.

"Not too sick to clean your guns, though, huh?"

From the look on her face, Daniel knew that anything he said would only further goad her. He decided to close his eyes and keep his mouth closed. After a moment of quiet, Daniel heard Miyako pick the gun up off the desk. He opened his eyes slightly and peeked at what she was doing. She held the skeletonized weapon in her hands and gazed at it for a few moments.

"I hope you stay sick for a while…"

"It's just a cold, so I doubt I will."

"Then I wish you'd hang these guns up for good."

Daniel closed his eyes again.

"Stick said the same thing just a little while ago."

"He managed to do it, so, you can too, right?"

"Stick's always been tougher than me, though."

Miyako let out a heavy sigh as she relaxed her arms and let her hands drop into her lap. The loosened bits of the gun Daniel hadn't removed to clean clacked together quietly as it plopped against her legs.

"You don't have to worry so much. You heard Ross, Stalker jobs won't change."

"That might make me feel better if you were a regular Stalker."

Daniel opened his eyes and looked at Miyako, who was still gazing down at the gun in her lap. Her furled brow and slight scowl made Daniel's stomach tighten up and his own lips droop. He narrowed his eyes and scratched his head.

"I'm not really good at reassuring people, but I can promise you I won't get killed by any Howlers or anything. If I was going to, I would have already, right?"

Miyako didn't answer. She looked at the Tabby tooth on the desk, which caused her face to grow even more sullen.

"I'm trying to cheer you up; work with me here."

Miyako took a deep breath.

"Then tell me something funny."

"What, like a knock-knock joke or something?"

"Whatever you can think of."

Daniel thought for a moment about something that might make Miyako laugh. He thought to himself that his only real experience with jokes came from his father. Then he realized that his only experience with jokes came from his father.

"What do you call a dinosaur with no eyes?"

Miyako cocked her head to the side, half-rolled her eyes, and looked past her brow at Daniel. Daniel could tell from her unamused smirk that she already knew the punchline.

"A Do-ya-think-he-saurus."

She didn't laugh, but her expression had brightened a bit.

"Ross was right. You really are old."

"Why does everybody keep saying that?"

"How many chicks have you picked up with that smooth sense of humor of yours?"

"I can't even get out of bed without stepping on someone's toes."

Miyako's chuckle made Daniel's shoulders sink into his bed and his lips relax.

"Even if my jokes were funny, the only person I have to tell them to is Ross, and he's heard them all already."

"Then, tell me something funny you haven't told Ross."

Daniel thought for a moment, staring at the ceiling, as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Stick told me I should settle down."

"Oh, yeah? With who?"

"You. Then he said I should adopt one of the kids from the orphanage."

Daniel didn't hear the laugh he was expecting. He didn't hear anything from Miyako for a few moments.

"That wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?"

Her words trembled quietly, just barely reaching Daniel ears. He turned his head to meet her expectant gaze.

"I can hardly take care of myself. I don't think I could raise a kid."

She looked at her knees and fidgeted, before pursing her lips and looking back up at Daniel.

"That's not what I meant…"

Daniel expected her to laugh, but she didn't. The quiet words and her gentle expression made an unfamiliar feeling well up inside his chest. It was uncomfortable, but pleasant and made him aware of his own heartbeat. He turned his head away and rolled onto his side.

"I wonder about that."

Miayko scoffed.

"Oh yeah? Why is that?"

"Because you're mean to me."

"How am I mean to you?"

"You mean before or after you wished I stay sick?"

She laughed and playfully slapped him on the back.

"Oh, don't be such a baby!"

Daniel argued with Miyako until the sounds outside his room drifted away.


	30. Final Chapter

Chapter 29: Declaration

The stairs seemed to repeat Ross' steps back to him as he climbed them. The echoes he thought he should not have been able to hear rang throughout the lobby of Grand Central Station. As he reached the top and leaned on his hands against the banister he had appropriated as a lectern, a thousand eyes all turned to look at him. Some of their gazes were hopeful. Some of their gazes were fearful. Some of their gazes were wrathful. Some of their gazes were willful. Each person's eyes were another set of weights on his shoulders. He gathered strength in his legs and he stood tall.

"As you may have already heard, the Army has attacked Grand Square," he said, projecting his voice as loudly as he could without yelling, "They were meticulous, they were motivated, and they had a very clear goal."

Ross thought for a moment, remembering the words he had practiced countless times in his office.

"I know many of you are angry. You want to know how they could have done something like this. You want to know why they would do something like this. After all, we're all brothers and sisters in this near-dead world, right? We're supposed to help each other, right?"

Ross pushed himself away from the rail and walked down the steps. When he reached the bottom, he moved along the front of the crowd toward three bound men on their knees. The top half of their Army fatigues was missing, revealing the stab resistant t-shirt each soldier wore underneath.

"The truth is: we already know why they attacked us, even if they don't. Their goal was to kill me."

Ross expected at least a few outraged murmurs. He didn't let his pride show when the crowd stood silent and attentive. He looked at the soldiers. One had his eyes closed and an expectant grimace on his face. One soldier stared wide-eyed at Ross with his jaw hanging open and gently shook his head. The last soldier had his teeth clenched together and his head hung low on his shoulders.

"You don't blame a knife for cutting your hand. You blame whoever is holding that knife."

He turned back to the crowd.

"Soldiers like these men aren't told why they fight. They kill what they're told to kill. In other words, while they may not be guiltless, they are no more to blame than the knife. Soldiers like these men are no more than tools for the men above them."

He took a deep as he collected his words.

"That's why I ask that you not condemn these men. After all, we're all brothers and sisters in this near-dead world. We're supposed to help each other. We should give them a choice!"

He turned to the soldiers again.

"Right now, you are not tools. You are men, with your own will and your own ideas of what's right or wrong. If you choose to stay here, to stay men, then stay on your knees. That said, I understand that you may have a reason to stay on the other side. Whatever your reasons may be, we will not curse you if we cross paths again, but we will become enemies. If you choose to go back to being a tool, then stand, and you will be escorted safely back to the Army's line."

Ross realized that his throat was sore from straining his voice, but ignored it as he waited. Only one of the soldiers moved. He slowly wobbled to his feet, head still hung low. Ross placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke softly to the man.

"I hope that, one day, we can meet again as men."

The soldier didn't lift his face to meet Ross' eyes, but nodded. Ross gestured to the Peacemakers waiting nearby. They led the man out of the hall and disappeared behind the stairs. Ross climbed the stairs and returned to his starting place. He leaned against the guard rail and took another breath.

"Now, some of you may be wondering who our enemy really is. That would be the man responsible for trying to kill me, the man responsible for forcing us through this hardship. That man would be Colonel Aaron Caul. Our goal is not to destroy the Army. Even as our enemy, they keep another monster at bay across the river. If we can take down the colonel, we can free our brothers and sisters, and strengthen New York City as a whole."

Ross pushed himself off the railing and stood straight up with his chest puffed out. He tried to strengthen his voice as he held his chin up high.

"I don't want any of you to think you have to fight. You are all men and women with your own lives. But me? I'm going out there, even if I have to go alone. It won't be easy, not by a long shot, but I ask that you stand beside me as I go to war."

He spread his arms wide and wounds his hands into tightly-balled fists before shouting with all his might.

"So, who's with me?!"

The crowd suddenly exploded with a roar of thunderous of cheers. Ross could see their fists filling the room and their faces covered with determination. He could hear the fervor in their voices. As he let himself get caught up in the excitement of the crowd and shout along with them, he steeled his nerves.

He prepared himself to go to war.

**Thank you for reading! This is the last chapter of this story. Partially so i can move on to the next act and partially to enter the Fandom contest on Inkitt (didn't see a rule against this on the guidelines page, so here's url that goes after the domain, if anyone liked the story and wanted to support it: /****stories/50378 If it is against the rules and a moderator or someone wants to let me know via PM, I'll remove it.)****. Daniel's story isn't over, though. So, if you enjoyed it, look out for the continuation that is coming soon!**


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